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AARON’S ROD 


























































































































































































































































































































































































THE 

Prophets of the Bible 


AND THE 

Seven Churches. 


ILLUSTRATIONS AND BIOGRAPHIES 

OP THE 

Great Men of Old. 

WITH THE PAST AND PRESENT CONDITION 


OP THE 

HOMES OF PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY IN ASIA. 



By Rev. W. F. P. NOBLE, A.M., 

H 7 7 

AUTHOR OF “GREAT MEN OF GOD,” ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED BY DESIGNS FROM DORE. 





PHILADELPHIA: 

NEW WORLD PUBLISHING CO. 








Entered according to Act of Congress in tlie year 1872, by 
JOHN C. COPPEB, 

in the office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C. 


* « 





PREFACE 


In preparing these sketches, the writer has freely used any 
material suited to his object. He acknowledges his indebted¬ 
ness to various writers who have touched the same great 
theme in any of its parts. The works of many leading au¬ 
thors have been before him, and used so far as they could be 
made available for his purpose. It has been his effort to bring 
the substance of a number of books before a class of readers 
to whom these authorities are not accessible; and with this 
end in view, anything in other writers that seemed likely to 
impart additional interest to the reading of the Scriptures has 
been incorporated, so far as space permitted. 

In carrying out his plan, he has not thought it necessary 
to load the pages with foot-notes, or the letter-press with quo¬ 
tation marks, but deems it sufficient to give this general 
credit at the outset. 

It is hoped that some good may result from this attempt 
to group in one picture the portraits of those great Hebrew 
Seers, whose office it was to speak to man for God and to 
God for man. 

Philadelphia, Jan. 1st, 1873. 






CONTENTS. 



THE PEOPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 

Nature of Prophecy—Not Confined to Prediction—Moral and Spirit^ 0 ** 
ual Teachers—Patriots—Divinely Inspired—Hebrew Word for Prophet 
—The Sixteen Prophetic Books—Messianic Prophecy—The Prophet¬ 
ical Order—Schools of the Prophets—The Prophetic State—Visions— 
Dreams—Prophets of the New Testament—Relation of the Prophetic 
Office to the Priesthood—Boldness of the Prophets—Have we such a 
Class now ?—The Modern Minister. 15 


I. 

MOSES. 

THE PROPHET OF THE LAW. 

His Birth—His Beauty—The Boat of Bulrushes—Adopted by Pharaoh’s 
Daughter—Educated in the Wisdom of the Egyptians—A Great Gen¬ 
eral—Marries an Ethiopian Princess—Slays an Egyptian—His Flight 
—His Chivalry—Rescues the Maidens from the Bedouins—Marries, and 
Becomes a Shepherd—The Burning Bush—Called to Deliver the He¬ 
brews—His Prophetic Character—The Ninetieth Psalm—Historical 
Writings—Leaves the Seclusion of Pastoral Life—Enters the Third and 
Most Active Division of His History—Appears at the Egyptian Court— 
Turns Aaron’s Staff into a Serpent—The Plagues—Locust Storm—The 
Passover—The Death of the First-born—The Departure from Egypt— 

The Pillar of Cloud and of Fire—The Passage of the Red Sea—Bitter 
Waters Made Sweet—Quails and Manna—Water Flows from the Rock 
—Mount Sinai—The Ten Commandments—Criminal and Civil Code— 

The Tabernacle—Sin of Moses—Personal Traits—The Closing Scene— 
View of the Promised Land—Burial of Moses. 35 

II. 

SAMUEL. 

THE SON OF PRAYER. 

His birth—Consecrated to God—His Childhood—His Prophetic Call— 
Judgment on the House of Eli Announced and Executed—Grandeur 
v. 





vi. 


CONTENTS. 


Page. 

of the Narrative—Samuel judges Israel—Circuit Courts—His Sons As¬ 
sociated with Him—The People Desire a King—Samuel’s Picture of a 
King—Anointing of Saul—Saul Prophesies—“ Long Live the King”— 
Deliverance of Jabesh—Samuel’s Integrity—Anointing of David—His 
Personal Appearance—Shepherd Life—His Character and Genius—His 
Poetry—The Psalms of Universal Adaptation—The College of the 
Prophets—David and Samuel at Naioth—Saul among the Prophets— 
Death of Samuel—The Witch of Endor—The Shade of Samuel—Death 
of Saul—David’s “ Song of the Bow.”... 117 

III. 

NATHAN. 

THE FEARLESS REPROVER. 

Consulted about the Temple—David’s Sin with Bathsheba—Murder of 
Uriah—Nathan’s Apologue of the Ewe Lamb—“ Thou art the Man”— 
David’s Penitence—His Punishment—Death of His Child—Amnon and 
Tamar—Absalom Kills the Seducer of his Sister—Rebellion and Death 
of Absalom—Lament of David—Nathan the Tutor of Solomon—Jew¬ 
ish Literature—The Wisdom of Solomon—His Judicial Decisions—The 
Two Mothers—His Breadth of Yiew—The Queen of Sheba—Solomon’s 
Science—His “ Song of Songs”—His Love of Nature—The Book of 
Proverbs... 149 


IY. 

ELIJAH. 

THE PROPHET OF FIRE. 

Stands before Ahab—His Personal Appearance—The Drought—The 
Brook Cherith—Raises the Widow’s Son—Zarephath—Famine—Oba- 
diah—Meeting on Carmel—The Test by Fire—Elijah’s Irony—Prayer for 
Rain—Ahab makes his Report to his Queen—Flight of Elijah—His 
Despondency—Yision of Horeb—The Still Small Yoice—He throws 
his Mantle over a Young Farmer—Elisha’s Humility—The Parting 
Feast—Naboth’s Yineyard—The Curse on Ahab—Jezebel—Death of 
Ahab—Fire from Heaven destroys the Armed Bands—Ascension of 
Elijah—Parallel with Moses—“ Alone ”—The Impression made by him 
on his Nation—The Mount of Transfiguration. 179 

Y. 

ELISHA. 

THE WORTHY SUCCESSOR. 

Contrast with Elijah—The Son of a Farmer—The Plowman called to 
be a Prophet-—Farewell to Father and Mother—Slays a Yoke of Oxen 





CONTENTS. 


vii 


and gives an entertainment—Translation of Elijah—Master and Disciple AGE * 
Converse—“A Double Portion of thy Spirit 'The Friends Parted— 

Elisha takes up the Mantle-Divides Jordan-Heals the Waters of Jericho 
—Bears Destroy Forty-two Insolent Youths at Bethel—Good Men not to 
be Despised—A Word to Parents—Mt. Carmel—War—The Confeder¬ 
ate Camp—The Suppliant Kings—Music and Prophecy—Trenches fill¬ 
ed without Rain—Watet Mistaken for Blood—Human Sacrifices—The 
Pot of Oil—Lands for the Landless—God takes care of His Children— 

The Shunammite—The Prophet’s Chamber—The Grateful Guest— 
Death and Life—The Land Restored—Death in the Pot—A Friend in 
Need—The Hebrew Maid—The Journey to Israel—Naaman before 
Elisha—The Jordan—Gehazi—Abana and Pharpar—Damascus—The 
Borrowed Axe—Elisha’s Safeguard—Samaria Besieged—The Deserted 
Tents—Hazael—Jehu—Naboth Avenged—Jezebel—Slaughter of the 
Princes—The Rechabite—The Massacre at Samaria—Character of Jehu 
—The Arrow of Deliverance—The Character of Elisha’s Ministry. 227 

VI. 


ISAIAH. 

THE PROPHET OF THE GOSPEL. 

The Great Man of His Age—Statesman as well as Prophet—Of Royal 
Blood—Lives at the Capital—Names of his Children—His Style—Con¬ 
trast with other Prophets—Simple yet Sublime and Exultant—A Seer— 

The Evangelical Eagle—Isaiah’s Call—Sublime Vision in the Temple— 

The Seraphim—The Prophet’s Mission—His Catholicity and Breadth 
of View—Messianic Prophecies—The Prophet of the Gospel—In Ad¬ 
vance of his Age—a Plain Preacher—Denounces the Vices of his Time 
—Invasion of Sennacherib—Insulting Letter of the Heathen King— 
Faith of Hezekiah—God Speaks Through Isaiah—Destruction of the 
Assyrian Host—Murder of Sennacherib by his Sons—The Prophet’s 
Hymn—This great Jewish Rescue a Type of all Great National Deliver¬ 
ances—Martin Luther and the Forty-sixth Psalm—Hebrew Melody of 
Lord Byron. 307 


VII. 

JEREMIAH. 

THE WEEPING PROPHET. 

His Call—Elegy over Josiah—The Friends of Jeremiah—His Likeness to 
Paul—His Solitude—His Opposition to the Priests and Prophets—His 
Doctrines—His Firmness—His Sensibility—He Longs for the Desert— 
A Man of Peace, yet Forced to be a Man of Strife—His Pathos—Im¬ 
passioned Exhortation—Grandeur of the Prophet—His Spiritual Teach¬ 
ing—The Prophet of the Second Law—His Life Eventful—Decline of 
Judah—Jeremiah in the Temple—Rise of the Babylonian Empire- 
Battle of Carchemish—The Policy of Jeremiah—The Prophet’s Warn- 




viii. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

ings—His Arrest and Imprisonment—Baruch Recites the Prophecies of 
Jeremiah—Fury of the King—Burning of the Parchment—The Prophe¬ 
cies Rewritten—Last Struggle of Jeremiah—Invasion—The Prophet 
Again in Prison—Drawn up from the Well—Buys the Field of Hana- 
meel—Refuses to Leave Palestine—Famous in Jewish Tradition— 
Patron Saint of Judea—Typical Character. 331 

VIII. 

EZEKIEL. 

THE PROPHET OF SYMBOLS. 

Contemporary with Jeremiah—Prophecies in Captivity—Applies the 
Imagery of the East—Priest as well as Prophet—Gigantic Emblems— 

His Prophecies of Jerusalem—Symbolic Acts—Dispensation of the 
Spirit—Individual Responsibility—The Gospel According to Ezekiel— 
Repent and be Saved—“Why will Ye Die ?”—Vision of Dry Bones— 
Revival—The Mystic City and the Flowing Waters—Characteristics of 
Ezekiel—Lofty Grandeur of his Visions—Typical Acts and Attitudes— 
Boldness of His Spirit and Vehemence of Language—Rare Beauty— 
Practical Appeals-A Burning Portent in the Old Testament Sky—How 
does our Fancy Paint the Prophet ?. 365 

IX. 

DANIEL. 

THE PROPHET OF DREAMS. 

Babylon—Temple of Belus—Hanging Gardens—Daniel Brought to Baby¬ 
lon—The Magi—The Hebrew Youth refuse the Royal Dainties—Their 
Wisdom—Nebuchadnezzar’s Dream—Daniel Recalls and Interprets it— 

Is Exalted to a High Office—Announces God’s Judgment to the King— 
Nebuchadnezzar Driven out to Dwell in the Fields—Cyrus—Mene, 
Mene, Tekel, Upharsin—The Euphrates Drained and Babylon Taken— 
Daniel made Prime Minister—Accused to Darius—Cast into the Lions’ 
Den— 1 The Restoration of the Jews—Daniel’s Visions—What are 
Dreams ?—Messiah Foretold—No Account of Daniel’s Death—The 
Prophets Vanish from Sight but Their Messages Remain. 385 

X. 


JONAH. 

THE PROPHET OF THE GENTILES. 

The Minor Prophets—Jonah the Son of the Widow of Zarephath— 
Nineveh—Its vast Remains—Signs of Cruelty—Jonah the First Mis¬ 
sionary to the Heathen—The Flight of the Prophet—Asleep in the 
Vessel—The Storm at Sea—Jonah is Aroused and Confesses his Guilt 





CONTENTS. 


ix 


—Is Cast into the Sea—A Great Fish Receives Him—His Meditations 
in the Depths—Thrown out on the Shore—Enters Nineveh—His 
Piercing Cry—The Doomed City Repents and is Spared—The Prophet 
is Angry—The Withered Gourd—Lessons of the Book—God not Bound 
to Destroy—The Power of Units—Joys that will not Wither—Protest 
against Narrowness and Sectarianism. 403 


XI. 


HABAKKUK. 

THE SUBLIME PROPHET. 

Intellectual Influences of the Bible—Its Effects upon Literature—Bunyan 
Milton, Addison, Byron, Goethe, Ruskin—Franklin at Versailles— 
Sublimity of Habakkuk—The Prophet’s Inward Experience—Cast 
down at the Sufferings of the Righteous and the Prosperity of the 
Wicked—•“ The Just shall live by Faith.”. 419 

XII. 

JOHN. 

THE PROPHET OF THE NEW TESTAMENT, AND APOSTLE OF LOVE. 

Did John resemble Jesus?—Jesus His Theme—His Epistles Love—Let¬ 
ters—“ God is Love ”—“ We shall see Him as He Is ”—His Gospel— 

“ In the Beginning Was the Word ”—Visit of Nicodemus to Jesus— 
Jesus and the Blind Man—Lazarus and his Sisters—“ Jesus Wept ”— 
John the Seer of the Apocalypse—Its Terrors and Glories—Simplicity 
of John amid the Bursting Vials of this Mystic Volume-Is it a Poem ? 

—Its Towering Imagery—Outline of tlie Book—It has Kept its Secret 
—Who Shall open it and Loose its Seals ?. 435 


THE SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 

INTRODUCTION. 

The Mediterranean—Asia Minor—Genial Winters—Reviving Showers— 
Beautiful Scenery—Vegetable Kingdom—Animals—Salt Lakes— 
Mountain System—The Apocalypse—Patmos—What is Meant by Asia ? 

—The Number Seven—The Seven Churches. 457 

EPHESUS. 

Ruin of the City—Magnificence of Ancient Ephesus—Temple of Diana— 
Sculptures of Praxiteles—Painting of Alexander by Apelles—Visit of 
St. Paul—The Artisans raise a Tumult—Paul Departs—The Ministry 







X. 


CONTENTS. 


Page. 

tions of St. John—Ephesus Captured by the Turks—Epistle to this 
Church—The Stadium—The Theater—Prison of St. Paul—Burning of 
the Temple—To Rebuild it the Ladies give their Jewelry—Laid waste 
by the Goths. 471 


SMYRNA. 

Still a large City—Mingling of Many Nations—Caravan Bridge— 
large Commerce—Antiquity of the City—“The Crown of Life ”—Poly¬ 
carp—His Arrest—A Voice from Heaven—The Trial—Prayer of the 
Patriarch—Bound to the Stake—His Death—The Plague—Women of 
Smyrna—The Modern City—The Bay—The Old Fortress—The Moun¬ 
tains—Martyrdom of a Greek Christian... 485 

PERGAMOS. 

The Stronghold of Lysimachus—An Illustrious Seat of Learning— 
Parchment—Antipas—The Church of St. John’s Day—The New Tes¬ 
tament in Pergamos—The Storks among the Ruins—The Acropolis 
—Temple of Minerva—Palace of Attalus—Shrine of Esculapius— 
Number of Population—Picturesque Scene—Greek Church. 505 

THYATIRA. 

Situated in a Broad Plain—Population—Luxuriant Vegetation— 
Locusts—“That Woman Jezebel”—Lydia—The Trade in Purple— 
Ruins—Commerce—Contrast of Piety and Wickedness in the Church... 517 

SARDIS. 

On the River Pactolus—Capital of Croesus—Solon—“ Call no man 
happy till he is Dead ”—Croesus Conquered and Released by Cyrus—Sar¬ 
dis Captured by Alexander and by the Romans—Epistle to Sardis—A 
Miserable Village—Xerxes—Huge Tumuli—Tomb of Alyattes—Tem¬ 
ple of Cybele—The Acropolis—Description by Arundell—Ascent of 
a Precipice—Churches—Palace of Croesus—Fording the Hermus— 
Burial-Places of Myriads—Refusing the New Testament—Solitude.... 525 

PHILADELPHIA. 

Named from its Founder—Epistle—Pillar—Population—Episcopal Pal¬ 
ace—Gibbon—Impressions of Travelers—Minarets—Many Christians 
Here—Spiritual Darkness—The Turtle Dove—Visit to the Bishop— 

“ City of God ” or “Beautiful City”—Antiquities—Unmeaning Wor¬ 
ship—Number of Churches.537 


LAODICEA. 

Medical School—Philosophy—Epistle—Great Wealth—Council—Desola¬ 
tion—V olcanic Action—Earthquakes—Odeum—Theaters—Circus— 

Village of Eski-Hissar—Aqueduct.. 548 







LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 


1. Frontispiece. The Rod Changed into a Serpent. 

2. Moses Smiting the Rock. . 35 

3. Plowing, hoeing and sowing. 37 

4. Goats Treading in Grain. 38 

5. Sphynx and Pyramids. 39 

6. Making Bricks in Egypt. 42 

7. An Egyptian Carrying Cakes to the Oven. 45 

8. Beards, Egyptian and other Nations. 47 

9. Egyptian Baskets. 49 

10. Egyptian Archer. 52 

11. Hippopotamus. 58 

12. Reaping Wheat, Egypt. 61 

13. Treading out Grain with Oxen. 64 

14. Ararat.-. 69 

15. Egyptian Ark... t 74 

16. Ancient Egyptian Funeral Procession.‘ 78 

17. Modern Funeral Procession. 82 

18. Passage of the Red Sea . 85 

19. Bronze Egyptian Caldron. 87 

20. Egyptian Dances. 91 

21. Papyrus Boat. 97 

22. The Tabernacle. 100 

23. Egyptian. 101 

24. Egyptian Woman. 105 

25. Boat of the Nile... 107 

26. Mummy. 110 

27. Samuel Raised by the Witch of Endor . 117 

28. Dead Sea. 120 

29. Jericho. 124 

30. Gaza. 127 

31. Mosque at Hebron (Machphela). 131 

32. David with his Sling. 133 

33. Hare of Mount Lebanon. 134 

34. Dress of Jewish High Priest. 136 

35. Sea of Gennesaret. 138 

36. Nathan . 149 

37. Tomb of Absalom. 151 

38. Map—Environs of Jerusalem.154 

39. Jerusalem. 158 

40. Castle of David. 162 

41. Solomon’s Palace. 166 

42. Date Palm. 168 

43. Gazelle. 171 













































xii. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Page. 

44. Rings. 174 

45. Vessels of Curious Shape. 181 

46. Ammon. 185 

47. Elijah raising the Widow's Son . 187 

48. Heathen Altars. 188 

49. Anklets of Various Patterns. 192 

50. A Cuirass. 198 

51. Battle Axes. 201 

52. Skin Bottles. 204 

53. Bottles of Curious Shapes. 205 

54. Bactrian Camel. 210 

55. Arabian Camel. 211 

56. Elijah in the Chariot of Fire . 213 

57. Golden Candlestick. 216 

58. Jezreel. 218 

59. Mockers of Elisha Destroyed . 227 

60. Ruins of an Ancient City... 229 

61. Cedars of Lebanon. 234 

62. A Coast Scene. 238 

63. Egyptian Cart. 243 

64. Plain and Lake of Damascus. 248 

65. View of Damascus. 252 

66 . Long-eared Syrian Goat. 263 

67. The Colocynth. 267 

68 . The Jordan.... _... 272 

69. The Leopard. 276 

70. Washing before or after a Meal. 281 

71. Manner of Reclining at Table. 286 

72. The Chameleon...;. 290 

73. Abraham’s Oak near Hebron. 295 

74. View of Samaria and the Lake. 297 

75. Owl of Palestine. 300 

76. Ostrich. 301 

77. Isaiah . 307 

78. Assyrian Warrior. 308 

79. Assyrian Armlet.. 311 

80. Roman Soldier. 313 

81. Combat between an Assyrian and Egyptian Soldier.. 318 

82. Assyrian Swords. 318 

83. Mount Hor. 321 

84. Battering-ram. 325 

85. Thrones of Sennecherib and Darius. 326 

86 . Jeremiah . 331 

87. Assyrian Bowman. 332 

88 . Assyrian Helmets. 333 

89. Assyrian Shields.336 

90. Assyrian Crowns... 339 

91. Assyrian Cups .-. 344 

92. Assyrian Ensigns. 347 

93. Reputed Tomb of Ezra on the Tigris. 351 

94. Golden Gate Jerusalem. 355 






















































LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS, 


xiii. 


95 

96 

97 

98 

99 
100 
101 
102 

103 

104 

105. 

106. 

107. 

108. 

109. 

110 . 
111 . 
112 . 

113. 

114. 

115. 

116. 

117. 

118. 

119. 

120 . 
121 . 
122 . 

123. 

124. 

125. 

126. 

127. 

128. 

129. 

130. 

131. 

132. 

133. 

134. 

135. 

136. 
137 


. Assyrian King, Palace of Nimrod.. 

Valley of Dry Bones . 

Winged Sphinx.... 

Assyrian Sphinx. 

Assyrian Griffin... 

. Grecian Griffin. 

Fish God of Assyria. 

Winged Deity of Assyria.. 

. Weeping Willow of Babylon. 

Daniel. ... .... 

Babylonian Coffin.^.... 

Statue of Nebo. 

Chart of the Country round Babylon. 

Jonah .... 

Assyrian King putting out Eyes of Captives. 

Assyrian Mode of taking a City. 

TJabbdkuk ...... 

Women Grinding Grain......... 

Reputed Tomb of Esther,.....; .... 

Ancient Tomb. ... 

St. John ........ 

Bethany .*........ 

Gethsemane ...... 

Mount of Olives.„... 

Asia... 


Almond Tree.. . 

Plows, etc., used in Asia Minor, 

Site of Ephesus. 

Theater of Ephesus..... 

Acropolis... 

View of Smyrna.. 

Grotto of the Nativity-.. 

Ruins of Ancient Bozrah....... 

Coins of Ephesus and Smyrna.. 

View of Pergamos. 

Necropolis. 

View of Thyatira.. ... 

Ruins of Sardis.... 

Coral of Mediterranean........ 

Philadelphia.—♦. • 

Pomegranate.......... .. ....* 

Laodicea .............. 

Patmos .—► ............ 


Page . 

. 359 
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. 366 
. 368 
. 370 
. 372 
. 374 
. 375 
. 379 
. 385 
. 386 
. 390 
. 394 
. 403 
, 405 
. 410 
. 419 
. 422 
. 423 
. 427 
. 435 
. 439 
. 444 
- 449 
. 461 
. 463 
. 466 
. 472 

• 474 
. 476 
. 486 

► 489 
. 492 

496 

507 

511 

518 

526 

• 528 
538 

► 541 
548 
551 














































THE PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


Nature of Prophecy—Not Confined to Prediction—Moral and Spiritaal 
Teachers—Patriots—Divinely Inspired—Hebrew Word for Prophet— 
The Sixteen Prophetic Books—Messianic Prophecy—The Prophetical 
Order—Schools of the Prophets—The Prophetic State—Visions— 
Dreams—Prophets of the New Testament—Relation of the Prophetic 
Office to the Priesthood—Boldness of the Prophets—Have we such a 
Class now ?—The Modern Minister. 

Prophecy is speaking for God, and a prophet is one who 
speaks for God. The Jewish prophet was not primarily or 
characteristically a foreteller, though he often spoke de¬ 
cisively and authoritatively concerning the future. He was 
inspired to reveal the will of God—to act as an organ of com¬ 
munication between God and man. The revelations thus 
conveyed were not and could not be restricted to the future. 
They embraced the past and the present, and extended to 
those absolute and universal truths which have no relation to 
time. That the gift of prophecy included more than fore¬ 
sight and prediction, is apparent from the history of the pro¬ 
phets, as well as from their writings. Daniel proved himself 
a prophet by telling Nebuchadnezzar what he had dreamed, 
as much as by interpreting the dream itself. It was only by 
prophetic inspiration that Elisha knew what Gehazi had been 
doing. And the woman of Samaria very properly called 
Christ a prophet, because He told her all things that ever she 
did. 

The promise of a prophet like unto Moses, in the eighteenth 
chapter of Deuteronomy, comprehends the promise of a con¬ 
stant succession of inspired men, so far as this should be 
required by the circumstances of the people, which succession 
(15) 



16 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


was to terminate in Christ. This promise was abundantly 
fulfilled. In every emergency requiring such an interposition, 
we find prophets present and active, and in some important 
periods of the history of Israel they existed in great numbers. 
These, though not all inspired writers, were all inspired men, 
raised up and directed by a special Divine influence, to signify 
and sometimes to execute the will of God, in the administration 
of the Theocracy. Joshua is expressly represented as enjoying 
such an influence, and is reckoned in the Jewish tradition as a 
prophet. The Judges who succeeded him were all raised up 
in special emergencies, and were directed and controlled by 
a special Divine influence or inspiration. Samuel was one 
of the most eminent prophets. David was a prophet: “ The 
Spirit of the Lord spake by him, and His word was in his 
tongue.” After the schism between Judah and Ephraim, 
the principal prophetical activity was to be found in the 
kingdom of Israel. The schools of the prophets had been 
first established, and still continued, at Bamah and Bethel 
and Gilgal, all situated within the northern State. At this 
period the prophets were counted by fifties, by hundreds, by 
five hundred at a time. And in the two centuries following 
the disruption, we read of only three belonging exclusively 
to Judah, namely Hanani the seer, Eliezer of Mareshah, and 
Joel. Of the others, who by birth or dwelling-place might be 
reckoned to Judah, as Iddo the seer, Amos, the elder Zecha- 
riah, and Jehu the son of Hanani, their ministrations, as far 
as we know, were almost exclusively directed to Israel. 
Micaiah the son of Imlah, Jonah, and Hosea, belong entirely 
to the northern kingdom. Elijah and Elisha grow up, speak, 
teach, live, and pass away, entirely in the Church of Israel. 
Not a message of blessing or warning, if we except the one 
short address of Elisha to Jehoshaphat, and the one short 
letter of Elijah to Jehoram, reaches the kings of Judah. At 
the decline of the kingdom of Israel, the seat of prophecy 
was transferred from the ancient schools of the North to 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


H 


Judah and Jerusalem. The prophetic ministry continued 
through the Babylonish exile, and ceased some years after 
the restoration, in the person of Malachi, whom the Jews 
unanimously represent as the last of their prophets. 

Among these great seers, Moses stands out pre-eminent— 
leader as well as prophet. This the religion of the East 
has always admitted more easily than that of the West. 
Mohammed, Abdel-Kader, Schamyl, are all illustrations of 
this union; and in sacred history it is found in Joshua and 
others, as well as Moses. From the death of the great law¬ 
giver to the accession of Uzziah, a period of nearly seven 
hundred years, a large proportion of the prophets performed 
their functions orally, and without leaving anything on record. 
Joel is the connecting link between the older prophets, who 
are known to us only through their actions and sayings, and 
the later, who are known chiefly through their writings. 
The works of sixteen prophets have a place in our canon. 
These are not arranged in chronological order. Jeremiah, 
Ezekiel and Daniel were of the era of the captivity. Hag- 
gai, Zechariah and Malachi were the prophets of the restora¬ 
tion. Jonah, Nahum and Obadiah were prophets of the 
Gentiles. 

The preaching of the prophets consisted largely of clear 
statements of men’s sins, and earnest calls to repentance, 
coupled with the offer and promise of a free and full pardon 
to all who would turn from sin to Jehovah. They warned, 
threatened, exhorted; denounced the sins alike of rulers and 
subjects; instructed the people in the doctrines of religion; 
and did whatever was necessary to be done to make known 
the will and promote the service of God. 

Naturally, the Hebrew prophet was a man who had the 
power of writing and speaking—that poetic genius which 
gives persuasiveness and force to the words uttered. He 
was not necessarily a priest or Levite, or a member of one 
of the sacred colleges, or a man externally appointed to the 


13 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


task; but whether he belonged to one of these orders or not, 
he stepped forward of his own accord—at once self-moved, 
and moved from above—to the high office of warning the 
nation and its rulers. His voice was lifted up against sin of 
all kinds, against injustice, idolatry, deserting Jehovah for 
Assyrian or Egyptian gods. His wish was to preserve to 
the chosen people their nationality, and to check foreign 
marriages, treaties and customs. He called upon his coun¬ 
trymen to trust in themselves and in God. His words were 
warm with earnestness, with piety, with hope. When the 
nation was overrun by foreign armies, plundered, and even 
carried into captivity, he assured them that the day of pun¬ 
ishment would be followed by the day of prosperity, and ex¬ 
horted them to look forward to that day when peace would 
be on the earth, when Jerusalem would give law to the world, 
and Jehovah be acknowledged as the only true God. 

As to the inspiration under which the prophet spoke and 
.acted, there can be no doubt that the Bible itself represents 
it as plenary, or fully adequate to the attainment of its end. 
Where this end was external action, it was sufficiently se¬ 
cured by the gift of courage, strength and practical wisdom. 
Where the instruction of God’s people was the object, whether 
in reference to the past, the present, or the future; whether 
in word, in writing, or in both; whether for temporary ends, 
or with a view to perpetual preservation; the prophets are 
clearly represented as infallible, that is, incapable of erring 
or deceiving, with respect to the matter of their revelation. 
How far this object was secured by direct suggestion, by 
negative control, or by an elevating influence upon the native 
powers, is a question of no practical importance to those who 
hold the essential doctrine that the inspiration was in all 
Gases such as to render those who where inspired infallible. 

The ordinary Hebrew word for prophet is nabi, which 
comes from a word that signifies to boil up, to boil forth as 
a fountain, and hence to pour forth words as those do who 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


19 


speak with fervor of mind, or under a Divine inspiration. 
The word, therefore, properly describes one who speaks 
under a peculiar fervor, animation, or inspiration of mind, 
produced by a Divine influence; or else one who speaks, 
whether in foretelling future events, or in denouncing the 
judgments of God, when the mind is full, and when the 
excited and agitated spirit of the prophet pours forth the 
commissioned words, as water is driven from the fountain. 

Two other Hebrew words are used to designate a prophet, 
both signifying a “seer.” But the Anglicized Greek word 
which we use means “spokesman,” one who speaks for God, 
in His name, and by His authority. Though in common lan¬ 
guage “ prophecy ” has come to mean “prediction,” this is 
not the Bible use of the term. The different meanings, or 
shades of meaning, in which the word is employed in the 
New Testament may be stated thus: “ Prediction; ” “ Singing 
by the dictate of the Spirit; ” and “ Interpretation,” that is, un¬ 
derstanding and explaining the mysterious, hidden sense of 
Scripture, by the immediate illumination of the Spirit. 

THE SIXTEEN PROPHETS. 

Of the prophets whose books are in the canon, we may 
say: 1. They were the national poets of the Hebrews. 2. 
They were annalists and historians. A great portion of Isaiah, 
of Jeremiah, of Daniel, of Jonah, of Haggai, is direct or in¬ 
direct history. 3. They were preachers of patriotism; their 
patriotism being founded on the religious motive. 4. They 
were preachers of morals and of spiritual religion. The 
system of morals put forward by the prophets, if not higher 
or sterner, or purer than that of the Law, is more plainly de¬ 
clared, and with greater vehemence of diction. To expound, 
develop and apply the Law, was the business of the prophets. 
5. They were a political power in the State. 6. They held 
a position somewhat corresponding to the modern pastoral 
office. 


20 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


MESSIANIC PROPHECY. 

7. But the prophets were something more than national 
poets and annalists, preachers of patriotism, moral teachers, 
exponents of the Law, pastors and politicians. They were 
instruments of revealing God’s will to man, as in other ways, 
so specially by predicting future events, and in particular by 
foretelling the incarnation of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the 
redemption effected by him. The Messianic picture drawn 
by the prophets as a body, contains, at least, as many traits 
as these: That salvation should come through the family of 
Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Judah, David; that at the time of 
the final absorption of the Jewish power, Shiloh (the tran¬ 
quilizer) should gather the nations under his rule; that there 
should be a great prophet, typified by Moses; a king de¬ 
scended from David; a priest forever, after the order of 
Melchizedek; that there should be born into the world a 
child to be called Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of 
Peace; that there should be a Eighteous Servant of God, on 
whom the Lord would lay the iniquity of all; that Messiah, 
the Prince, should be cut off, but not for Himself; that an 
everlasting kingdom should be given by the Ancient of 
Days to one like the Son of Man. We have here a series of 
prophecies which are so applicable to the person and earthly 
life of Jesus Christ as to be thereby shown to have been de¬ 
signed to apply to Him. 

But aside from the predictive element in their writings, 
the prophets and other inspired penmen and saints and heroes 
of the Hebrews, pointed forward to the coming Messiah in 
another way. They were all “ types,” that is, “ likenesses,” 
in their sorrows of the Greatest of all sorrows, in their joys 
of the Greatest of all joys, in their goodness of the Greatest 
of all goodness, in their truth of the Greatest of all truths. 
The deep inward connection between the events of their own 
time and the crowning close of the history of their whole 
nation—the gradual convergence toward the event, which, by 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


21 


general acknowledgment, ranks chief in the annals of man¬ 
kind—is clear not only to the all-searching eye of Providence, 
but also to the eye of any who look above the stir and move¬ 
ment of earth. It is part not only of the foreknowledge of 
God, but of the universal workings of human nature and hu¬ 
man history. The mind flies silently upward from the 
earthly career of David, or Isaiah, or Ezekiel, to those vaster 
and wider thoughts which they imperfectly represented. 

And yet the sorrow, the joy, the goodness, the truth of 
these great men of God, is entirely their own. They are not 
mere machines or pictures. »When they speak of their trials 
and difficulties, they speak of them as from their own expe¬ 
rience. By studying them with all the peculiarities of their 
time, we arrive at a profounder view of the truths and 
events to which their expressions and the story of their deeds 
may be applied in after years, than if we regard them as the 
organs of sounds unintelligible to themselves, and with no 
bearing on their own period. Where there is a sentiment 
common to them and to Christian times, a word or act which 
breaks forth into the distant future, it will be reverently 
caught up by those who are on the watch for it, to whom it 
will speak words beyond their words, and thoughts beyond 
their thoughts. But even in the act of uttering these senti¬ 
ments, they still remained encompassed with human, Jewish, 
Oriental peculiarities, which must not be explained away or 
softened down. 


THE PROPHETICAL ORDER. 

The sacerdotal order was originally the instrument by 
which the members of the Jewish Theocracy were taught and 
governed in things spiritual. Teaching by act and teaching 
by word were alike their task. But during the time of the 
Judges, the priesthood sank into a state of degeneracy, and 
the people were no longer affected by the acted lessons of the 
ceremonial service. Under these circumstances a new moral 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


power was evoked—the Prophetic order. Samuel, himself 
a Levite, and almost certainly a priest, was the instrument 
used at once for effecting a reform in the sacerdotal order, 
and for giving to the prophets as a class, a more important 
position than they had before held. The germs both of the 
prophetic and the regal order are found in the law. These 
were developed by Samuel. Samuel took measures to make 
his work of restoration not only effective for the moment, 
but permanent also. For this purpose he instituted com¬ 
panies or colleges of prophets. One we find in his life-time 
at Eamah, others afterward at Bethel, Jericho, Gilgal, and 
elsewhere. Their constitution and object were similar to 
those of theological colleges. And so successful were these 
institutions, that from the time of Samuel to the closing of 
the canon of the Old Testament, there seems never to have 
been wanting a due supply of men to keep up the line of 
official prophets. But all the inspired prophets did not come 
from these colleges, but were drawn in some instances 
directly from the ordinary professions, and belonged to all 
classes of society. Isaiah and Daniel were of royal blood ; 
Elisha was a farmer; Amos was a shepherd; Jeremiah and 
Ezekiel were priests. 

SCHOOLS OF THE PROPHETS. 

The prophet was not a mere iEolian harp, from which a 
chance breeze drew forth certain wild and irregular, though 
beautiful notes. As a rule he was carefully prepared for the 
office. Where great natural gifts existed, this preparation 
was not always in schools. And yet Moses, the greatest of 
the prophets, was trained first in all the wisdom of Egypt, 
and then by forty years of meditation and study while keep¬ 
ing his flocks in the desert. What greater opportunities of 
thorough self-culture exist even at the present day than those 
enjoyed by Moses? First, to have the learning and scholas¬ 
tic discipline of the schools, and then, in the ripeness and 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


23 


maturity of his powers, to spend more than the average 
term of human life in solitary self-communion amid the sub- 
blime scenery of Sinai ? And how gross the error to imagine 
Moses a mere passive instrument of the Divine will, as 
though he had himself borne no conscious part in the actions 
in which he figured, or the messages which he delivered; a 
theory as unscriptural as irrational, for it is expressly said: 
“Did not Moses give you the law? ” “Moses, because of the 
hardness of your heart, suffered you; ” “ Moses gave you 
circumcision ; ” “ Moses accuseth you.” And what ^as needed 
by this man of marvelous gifts, to prepare him for the great¬ 
est work ever intrusted to man, was needed also by men of 
lesser gifts who followed him, to prepare them for the duties, 
less momentous than his, but yet vast and responsible, which 
in the Providence of God they would be called to discharge. 
And this preparation, during the greater part of the continu¬ 
ance of the Theocracy, and in the case of the larger propor¬ 
tion of the prophets, was furnished in the schools established 
by Samuel. A new impulse was given to these, and to the 
whole prophetic order, by Elijah. At this time the com¬ 
panies of the prophets reappear in the narrative, and they 
seem to have been bound by a still closer connection with 
him, than they had been with Samuel. Then they were 
“companies, bands, of prophetSj” now “sons, children of 
the prophetsand Elijah first, and Elisha afterward, ap¬ 
peared as the “ Father,” the “Abbot,” the “Father in God,” 
of the whole community. These sons of the prophets, we 
know from the inspired narrative, were not forbidden to 
marry, and the families of those who were married no doubt 
formed a part of the community. The chief subject of 
study would be the Law and its interpretation, with music 
and sacred poetry, and so much of natural science as was 
known to the Hebrews. From these seminaries were proba¬ 
bly derived the schools of the Kabbis, and other institutions, 
partaking somewhat of a collegiate or monastic character, 


24 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


which were common in the later ages of Judaism. And 
these again were no doubt the stock whence sprung those 
institutions which have spread over Christian lands, and un¬ 
der different forms, more or less skillfully adapted to their 
end, have continued to contribute their aid toward the pre¬ 
servation and dissemination of truth and science. 

THE PROPHETIC STATE. 

The conditions under which the Divine communications 
were received by the prophet have not been clearly declared 
to us. So far as anything can be inferred from incidental or 
explicit statements of the Scripture, the most usual method 
of communication would appear to have been that of imme¬ 
diate vision, that is, the presentation of the thing to be re¬ 
vealed as if it were an object of sight. Thus Micaiah saw 
Israel scattered on the hills like sheep without a shepherd, 
and Isaiah saw Jehovah sitting on a lofty throne. That this 
was the most usual mode of presentation, is probable not 
only from occasional expressions such as those just quoted, 
but from the fact that a very large proportion of the prophetic 
revelations are precisely such as might be painted and sub¬ 
jected to the sense of sight. The same conclusion is con¬ 
firmed by the use of the words seer and vision as essentially 
equivalent to prophet and prophecy . There is no need, how¬ 
ever, of supposing that this method of communication was 
used invariably. Some things in the prophecies require us 
to suppose that they were made known to the prophet just 
as he made them known to others, to wit, by the suggestion 
of appropriate words. 

In the opinion of some the prophetic “vision” differed 
little from the prophetic “ dream.” In the case of Abraham 
and of Daniel they seem to melt into each other. In both, 
the external senses are at rest, reflection is quiescent, and in¬ 
tuition active. Upon this theory, the prophetic trance was 
of the following nature: 1. The bodily senses were closed to 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


25 


external objects, as in deep sleep. 2. The reflective and dis¬ 
cursive faculty was still and inactive. 3. The spiritual fac¬ 
ulty was awakened to the highest state of energy. Hence 
the prophets’ visions are often unconnected and fragmentary, 
inasmuch as they are not the subject of the reflective but of 
the perceptive faculty. Hence, too, the imagery with which 
the prophetic writings are colored, and the dramatic cast in 
which they are moulded. But, granting that a great part of 
the Divine communications were received by the human in¬ 
strument in the state of dream, or in the state of ecstasy, 
still a large portion of them were made to the prophets in 
their waking and ordinary state. 

PROPHETS OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 

So far as their predictive powers are concerned, the Old 
Testament prophets find their Hew Testament counterpart 
in the writer of the Apocalypse; but in their general charac¬ 
ter, as specially illumined revealers of God’s will, their coun¬ 
terpart will rather be found, first in the Great Prophet of the 
Church, and his forerunner, John the Baptist, and next in all 
those persons who were endowed with the extraordinary 
gifts of the Spirit in the apostolic age, the speakers with 
tongues, and the interpreters of tongues, the prophets and the 
discerners of spirits, the teachers and workers of miracles. 
That, beside the instance of John the Bevelator, predictive 
powers did occasionally exist in the Hew Testament prophets, 
is proved by the case of Agabus, but this was not their char¬ 
acteristic. The prophets of the Hew Testament were super- 
naturally enlightened expounders and preachers. 

RELATION OF THE PROPHETIC OFFICE TO THE PRIESTHOOD. 

The prophetical office, shorn of its miraculous character, 
has in a certain sense been continued in the Christian Church. 
But, as an institution, the power of the Jewish priesthood 
passed away at the close of the Jewish dispensation. The 


26 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


prophetic office contained in it elements in their own nature 
universal and eternal. The Jewish priesthood was essentially 
Oriental, local, national, temporary. These orders were in a 
measure antagonistic, and the priesthood was held in check by 
the prophets. The vices, even the idolatries, of the kingdom 
of Judah received hardly any rebuke from the priests. They 
served, as it would appear, the altars of the false gods, as well 
as of the true. The whole sacrificial system to which they 
administered awakened, in the highest spirits of the Jewish 
Church itself, a feeling almost amounting to aversion. Its 
inferiority to the rest of the Mosaic revelation is stated by 
the prophets in the strongest terms: “I spake not unto your 
fathers, nor commanded them in the day that I brought them 
out of the land of Egypt concerning burnt-offerings or sacri¬ 
fices.” “ Sacrifice and burnt-offering thou didst not desire.” 
“Was it to me that ye offered sacrifices and burnt-offerings 
during the forty years in the wilderness?” “I delight not in 
the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of he-goats.” “I hate 
and despise your feast-days.” In one remarkable pas¬ 
sage, ascribed to Asaph the Psalmist, God is described as 
descending on Mount Zion, in storm and fire, as He had before 
descended on Mount Sinai, and declaring not merely in the 
presence of His own people, but to the whole universe, a 
deeper and wider law even than that of Moses. He, the Lord 
of the world,, stood in no need of sacrifices. It was not to be 
thought that He, to whom belonged the numberless cattle that 
strayed over hill and forest, could desire to devour the flesh 
of bulls, or drink the warm blood of the goat. The only sac¬ 
rifice which He could value was that of thanksgiving, of 
prayer, and of a life just, pure, tender and true. And differ¬ 
ing as the priesthood did from all Christian ministers, they 
may yet learn a lesson from it. Any religious institution 
which has an outward organization and a long traditional 
sanctity must, in some degree, be exposed to the tendency of 
resting, like the Jewish priesthood, in the substitution of 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


2t 


dogma, ceremony, antiquity, for morality and devotion. That 
the Levitical ritual should, even in the very time of its im¬ 
portance and usefulness, have called down such denunciations 
from the prophets, is one of the strongest warnings which the 
Bible contains against the letter, the form, the husk of reli¬ 
gion, however near its connection with the most sacred truths. 
The crime of Caiaphas is the last culminating proof that the 
opposition of the prophets to the growth of the priestly and 
sacrificial system was based on an eternal principle. 

But it needs to be said that, when out of the ruin of the 
Jewish Church the Christian Church arose, the priesthood 
was the one fragment of the ancient system standing out in 
unbroken strength, on which to hang the new truths which 
the Jewish apostles had to present to their countrymen, and 
at the same time, in doing so, to teach authoritatively that its 
mission was accomplished, and that thenceforth it, with all 
the Mosaic ritual, should cease forever. These followers of 
Jesus, and founders of the Christian Church, indeed, by the 
spirit that was in them (their master in the highest sense of 
all), continued the line of the prophets far more directly than 
they could be said to continue or even to use the merely 
national and local institution of the priesthood; still, for most 
purposes of outward illustration, the priesthood was more 
available than the prophetic office. The very destruction 
which was impending over it rendered more imperative the 
need of showing how completely all that it expressed, or 
could possibly express, was answered in the Christian dis¬ 
pensation, not by any earthly or ecclesiastical organization, 
but by the spiritual nearness to God, which, through the 
life and death of Christ, had been communicated to all who 
shared in His Spirit. 

BOLDNESS OF THE PROPHETS. 

Of them it may be said: “ They know not to give flattering 
titles; in so doing ” they feel, “ that their Maker would soon 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


take them away.” With God vertical over their head in all 
their motions, miserable courtiers and sycophants they would 
have made, even if such base avenues to success had been 
always open before them. They are the stern rebukers of 
wickedness in high places, the unhired advocates of the op¬ 
pressed and the poor; and fully do they purchase a title to 
the charge of being “ troublers of Israel,” disturbing it as the 
hurricane the elements and haunts of the pestilence. All classes, 
from the King of Samaria to the drunkard of Ephraim, from 
the Babylonian Lucifer, son of the morning, to the meanest, 
mincing and wanton-eyed daughter of Zion, with her round tire, 
like the moon—kings, priests, peasantry, goldsmiths and car¬ 
penters—men and women, countrymen and foreigners, must 
listen and tremble, when they smite with their hand and 
stamp with their foot. In them the conscience of the people 
found an incarnation, and stood at the corner of every street, 
to deplore degeneracy, to expose imposture, to blast the pre¬ 
tenses and the minions of despotism, to denounce every kind 
and degree of sin, and to point, with a finger that never shook, 
to the unrepealed code of Moses, and to the law written on 
the fleshly tablets of the heart, as the standards of rectitude. 
“ Where,” asks one,“ in modern ages, can we find a class ex¬ 
erting or aspiring to such a province and such a power ? In¬ 
dividuals of prophetic mood we have had and have. We 
have had a Milton, ‘wasting his life’ in loud or silent pro¬ 
test against that age of ‘ evil days and evil tongues,’ on which 
he had fallen. We have had a Cowper, lifting up ‘expostu¬ 
lations,’ not unheard, to his degraded country. We have had 
an Edward Irving, his ‘ neck clothed with thunder,’ and his 
loins girt with the ‘spirit and power of Elias,’ pealing out 
harsh truth, till he sank down, wearied and silent, in death. 
We have still a Thomas Carlyle, who, from the study where 
he might have trained himself for a great artist, has come 
forth, and standing by the wayside, has uttered the old laws 
of justice and of retribution, with such force and earnestness 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


29 


that they seem new and burning ‘burdens’ as if from tbe 
mountains of Israel. But we have not, and never have had 
a class anointed and consecrated by the hand of God to the ut¬ 
terance of eternal truth , as immediately taught them from behind 
and above , speaking, moving, looking, gesticulating and act¬ 
ing, ‘ as they were moved by the Holy Ghost.’ Our poets 
have, in general, been beautiful mirrors of the beautiful—ele¬ 
gant and tuneful minstrels that could play well on an instru¬ 
ment, and that were to the world as a ‘ very lovely song ’— 
not men persecuted and chased into utterance by the appari¬ 
tion behind them of the true. Our statesmen', as a class, 
have been cold temporizers, mistaking craft for wisdom, suc¬ 
cess for merit, and the putting off of the evil day for success. 
Our mental philosophers have done little else than translate 
into ingenious jargon the eldest sentiments and intuitive 
knowledge of humanity; they have taught men to lisp of 
the Infinite by new methods, and to babble of the Eternal in 
terms elaborately and artistically feeble. Our preachers, 
as a body, have been barely faithful to their brief, and they 
have found that brief in the compass of a confession, rather 
than in the pages of the Bible, shown and expounded in the 
light of the great God-stricken soul within. But our 
prophets, where are they ? Where many who resemble 
those wild, wandering, but holy flames of fire, which once 
ran along the highways, the hills and the market places of 
Palestine ? Instead, what find we ? For the most part, an 
assortment of all varieties of scribbling, scheming, speculat¬ 
ing and preaching machines, the most active of whose move¬ 
ments form the strongest antithesis to true life. Even the 
prophetic men among us display rather the mood than the 
insight of prophecy, rather its fire than its light, and rather 
its fury than its fire ; rather a yearning after than a feeling 
of the stoop of the descending God. We are compelled to 
take the complaint of the ancient seer, with a yet bitterer 
feeling than his: 


so 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


“ ‘ Our signs we do not now behold, 

There is not us among 
A prophet more, nor any one 
That knows the time how long.’ 

And we must even return, and sit at the feet of those bards 
of Israel who, apart from their supernatural pretensions, as 
teachers, as poets, as truthful and earnest men, stand as yet 
alone, unsurmounted and unapproached, the Himalayan 
mountains of mankind.” 

In the sphere of religion the prophets were omnipotent, 
and they included every question of right and wrong in this 
sphere. Whatever affected man’s welfare it was their province 
to touch. The present questions of the age were emphatically 
those which formed the burden of their preaching. And this 
is one test to apply in every age to distinguish the false pro¬ 
phet from the true. Bat let us not think too hardly of the 
modern minister— of him who in our own time claims to be 
the ambassador of God. Amid the abounding temptations to 
prophesy smooth things, to seek only that the flock be kept in 
good condition, and its fleece be seasonably marketed, there 
are those now just as well as in the times of Elijah and Jere¬ 
miah, who hold their commission direct from Jehovah, who 
acknowledge no master but Him, who speak to the rights and 
wrongs of the present hour, who believe that in preaching the 
Gospel they are to preach down all that is evil, and to preach 
up all that is good. And if there are others who, from lack 
of principle or comprehension, conduct their ministry upon 
another method, is the whole profession to be stigmatized for 
their shortcomings? It is easy, indeed, to understand the 
contempt which honest men feel for those who, with the cry 
“ preach the Gospel,” turn away from the duty of dealing with 
sin as it exists in their own land, and in their own congrega¬ 
tions. Called to preach the Gospel, the prophet of the pre¬ 
sent age is—called to proclaim the acceptable year of 
the Lord, to make known the mercy of the compas- 


PROPIIETS OF THE BIBLE. 


31 


sionate Saviour, to cheer the penitent with a full absolution 
from sin, and the bright hope of endless purity and joy—but 
he is called also to battle with evil existing now, as Christ and 
the prophets who went before Him battled with the evils of 
their day. 

It is incorrect, then, to allege, with the writer quoted 
above, that we have no prophets now. In the ranks of the 
ministry, and out of it, according to the wants of our time, 
and modified by its characteristics, are to be found those 
who are substantially the successors of the prophets. The 
age of inspiration is past, but God never leaves the world 
without moral leaders. And if these are not stoned or sawn 
asunder, or crucified now ) it is partly, let us hope, because 
the age is better, and partly because this is not the mode in 
which the age punishes those who oppose its spirit and re¬ 
buke its sins. 

That there is much in the ministry to deplore, those who 
are in it know better than those who are without. But the 
self-denial and abundant labors of a considerable portion of 
the profession must be equally plain to those who wish to 
see. Let justice be done to a multitude of hard-working, 
underpaid pastors, who, through evil report and good report, 
are laboring to advance that kingdom which is righteousness 
and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost. Let none, with undis¬ 
criminating censure, confound the noble and the base, the 
humble and the haughty, the hireling and the faithful servant 
of God and man. How, as ever, the ranks of the clergy con¬ 
tain some of the noblest of men, some of the ablest defenders 
of human rights, some of the purest examples of unselfishness 
—men who love and serve Christ and humanity—men who 
keep alive our faith in human nature, and our faith in God. 
Upon these the eye of the Master rests. To them, occupying 
the place that is obscure, or the place that is conspicuous, 
suffering the temptations and bearing the hardships belonging 
to the one or the other position, He speaks through the last 


32 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


of the prophets, as He is closing the inspired volume that is 
to be the hand-book and the solace of their ministry: 
“ Behold I come quickly; and my reward is with me, to 
give every man according as his work shall be.” 

“EVEN SO, COME, LORD JESUS.” 















































































































*<-• 


4 





















MOSES SMITING THE ROCK 

















































































































































































I. 

MOSES. 


His Birth—His Beauty—The Boat of Bulrushes—Adopted by Pharaoh's 
Daughter—Educated in the Wisdom of the Egyptians—A Great Gen¬ 
eral—Marries an Ethiopian Princess—Slays an Egyptian—His Flight 
—His Chivalry—Rescues the Maidens from the Bedouins—Marries, and 
becomes a Shepherd—The Burning Bush—Called to Deliver the He¬ 
brews—His Prophetic Character—The Ninetieth Psalm—Historical 
Writings—Leaves the Seclusion of Pastoral Life—Enters the Third 
and most Active Division of his History—Appears at the Egyptian 
Court—Turns Aaron’s Staff into a Serpent—The Plagues—Locust 
Storm—The Passover—The Death of the First-born—The Departure 
from Egypt—The Pillar of Cloud and of Fire—The Passage of the 
Red Sea—Bitter Waters made Sweet—Quails and Manna—Water Flows 
from the Rock—Mount Sinai—The Ten Commandments—Criminal and 
Civil Code—The Tabernacle—Sin of Moses—Personal Traits—The 
Closing Scene—View of the Promised Land—Burial of Moses. 

“ A prophet shall the Lord your God raise up unto you 
of your brethren, like unto me.” Thus was Moses type of 
that great Antitype whose coming he foretold. And save the 
Divine man of whom he spake in this prophecy, what greater 
personage than Moses does secular or sacred history hold up 
to our view? And what narrative so fascinating as that • 
which, beginning with the babe in his boat of bulrushes, car¬ 
ries us along through court and camp, now under the shadow 
of the Pyramids, and now amid the silence of the desert, and 
presents, with rapid strokes upon the canvas, the prophet, 
patriot and philosopher, the historian, divine and warrior, 
the leader, liberator and law-giver, until a life so illustrious 
in words and in deeds is crowned with a death and burial 
unique in glory, and the great founder of a nation destined 
to score deeper than any other in the world’s history is fol¬ 
lowed to the grave, not with vain funeral pomp—the long 

(35) 



36 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


procession of mourners, waving cypress, nodding plumes and 
riderless charger—mansion, palace, temple and senate-house 
draped and somber with costliest badges of sorrow, but hid¬ 
den by God’s own hand in the mountain cleft facing Beth- 
peor, whither the attendant train of angels had swept down 
from the death-scene on the beetling summit of Nebo. 

The story begins in an humble Hebrew household in Egypt. 
The edict of Pharaoh had gone forth that every male child 
of the enslaved race should perish as soon as born. Scarcely 
had this cruel decree been issued when it fell in all its crush¬ 
ing force on a family of the house of Levi. In that family 
there was already a boy three or four years of age, who had 
the good fortune to be born before the reign of terror ; and 
a little girl, numbering perhaps twice as many years, a clever, 
dark-eyed maiden, with a fine ear for music, and, with her 
sensible, active ways, the help and comfort of her mother. 
But now, when there should have been great joy in the house, 
when another was added to the family group, and a little 
baby brother was given to Miriam and Aaron, instead of joy 
there was sackcloth, and all was hushed and silent. No 
neighbor came to congratulate, and it was anything but pride 
which the poor mother felt as she gazed on the “ proper 
child.” 

His beauty indeed was extraordinary, and stimulated the 
mother to unusual efforts for his preservation from the gen¬ 
eral destruction of the male children of Israel. For three 
months the child was hid in the house. Day after day 
passed on, and every day the babe grew more endearing and 
more beautiful; but every day made concealment more diffi¬ 
cult. It was a wonder that no spy nor informant had yet 
found out the fatal secret; every foot-fall at the door sent 
panic through the house, and sometimes it was impossible to 
hush those infant outcries, which, if overheard, would attract 
the murderer to the cradle, and bring death upon every one 
of his kindred. 


MOSES. 


3 1 

This anxiety could not last. His mother took a small 
boat or basket of papyrus, closed against the water by bitu¬ 
men. In this she placed the babe, and with Miriam by her 
side she set off for the river. You may be sure it was with 
a bursting heart that the sister thought of the likely fate of 
that baby brother whom she had so often helped to nurse 
and dandle. But here was a quiet spot among the aquatic 
vegetation of the Nile, and though the shore was desolate 
and the crocodiles were hungry, the basket was deposited 
among the flags, and the mother departed, unable to bear the 
sight. The sister lingered to watch her brother’s fate. The 
Egyptian princess came down, after the Homeric simplicity 
of the age, to bathe in the sacred river. She saw the ark in 
the reeds, and dispatched an attendant after it. The babe 



wept, and her woman’s heart was touched. She determined 
to rear the child as her own. Shrewd Miriam was at hand 
to recommend a Hebrew nurse. And now the mother joins 
the group, oh! with what joy I And from amid the grandly 
dressed and laughing maidens, the king’s own daughter gives 
back the weeping boy to the bosom from which an hour 
since he had been torn, saying, “Take this child and nurse 
it for me, and I will give thee thy wages.” 

What an evening was that in the slave-hut of the Hebrews! 
How eagerly they all by turns embraced and coaxed the little 









38 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


outcast! How secure the joy of the happy mother as she 
clasped her own darling, safe beneath the shadow of the 
throne! How fervent the thanksgiving that ascended to the 
God of Abraham, who had transformed the ark of bulrushes 
into a golden cradle, and landed its precious and helpless 
freight, not in the jaws of some monster of the deep, but in 
the very precincts of Pharaoh’s palace, and the safe and lov¬ 
ing sanctuary of a mother’s heart! 



GOATS TREADING IN GRAIN. 


And now this bright boy is to be “ educated in all the wis¬ 
dom of the Egyptians,” to fit him for the transcendent part 
he is to play in the world’s history. That broad brow, 
betokening a massive intellect, which is to mould his na¬ 
tion and mankind, must bend over the symbols of a learning 
vaster than we, at this distance of time, can comprehend. 

The Egyptians are the earliest people known to us as a 
nation, and more refined and intelligent than any race of which 
we possess the memorials. While Abraham and his country¬ 
men were moving about in tents and wagons, the Egyptians 
were living in cities,- and enjoying all the advantages of a 
settled government and established laws. They had already 
cultivated agriculture, and parcelled out the rich valley of 
the Nile into farms. While their neighbors knew of no 
property but herds and movables, they reverenced a land¬ 
mark as a god, and looked upon its destroyer as an atheist 



MOSES. 


39 


They had invented hieroglyphics, and improved them into 
syllabic writing, and almost into an alphabet, long before any 
form of written language was known elsewhere in the world. 
They had invented records, and they wrote their kings’ names 
and actions on the massive temples which they raised. We 
cannot tell the ages which it had taken them to make this 
progress in civilization; but the whole Hebrew people, and 
especially Moses, were brought under its influence. Profi¬ 
cients, as the Egyptians were, in masonry and the mechanic 
arts, weaving that fine linen which all antiquity regarded as 



SPHINX AND PYRAMIDS. 

the glory of the loom, and rearing those enormous structures 
which are still the wonder of the world—musicians, armor¬ 
ers and jewelers, there was scarcely an art which its indus¬ 
trious citizens did not practice, and which an observant Hebrew 
might not acquire. 

But in addition to this, Moses was brought up a member 
of the privileged class, and in the very palace of the king. 
Adopted by one of the royal family, his princess-mother ob- 









40 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


tained for him the best instructors. His education went on 
under the shadow of the great Pyramid, which already had 
stood for a thousand years, a mountain of masonry, a furlong 
in length and breadth, and amid temples which covered acres 
of ground, and where colossal figures towered up a hundred 
feet in height, and all the opulence and activity of the pres¬ 
ent were visibly linked to a remote and stupendous past. He 
was taught to read the curious character to which Egyptian 
sages had consigned their speculations and their learning, and 
taught also to commit his own meditations to a scroll of papy¬ 
rus. He was initiated in that geometry which the land-sur¬ 
veying exigencies of their inundated valley made so necessary, 
and in the cognate astronomy in which they were wonderful 
adepts, and in the processes of their practical chemistry, 
which had already presented them with glass and bronze and 
many pure and exquisite pigments, and which enabled him 
afterward, before Sinai, to reduce to dust the golden image 
which Aaron had made for the idolatrous worship of the 
people while he was with God in the mount. 

But scholarship alone would not qualify Moses for the work 
before him, and as years went on he had an opportunity of 
earning distinction as a warrior. We are informed by the 
Jewish historian, Josephus, that the Ethiopians made an in¬ 
cursion into Egypt, and routed the army which was sent to 
resist them. Panic spread over the country, and Pharaoh 
trembled at the approach of the swarthy savages, who were 
already close to Memphis. At this critical juncture the com¬ 
mand was entrusted to Moses, who at once took the field, and 
by a rapid though round-about march, surprised the enemy, 
defeated them with heavy slaughter, drove them back into 
their own territories, and followed them up so hard, capturing 
one city after another, that they found no asylum till they 
reached the swamp-girdled city of Meroe. Here Moses sat 
down with his army, and the siege was brought to a speedy 
conclusion by his gaining the affections of an Ethiopian lady, 


MOSES. 


41 


whom he promised to marry, provided she put them in the 
way of entering the city. Her admiration of the handsome 
Hebrew was too strong for her patriotism, and the conqueror 
returned from his triumphant campaign, bringing with him 
his sable princess and the spoils of Meroe, and filling the minds 
of all his countrymen with hope and exultation. Successful 
thus in war, the adopted son of Pharaoh’s daughter, it seemed 
not improbable that he might succeed to her father’s throne. 
The Hebrews had a mysterious aptitude for rising. The 
slave-boy Joseph had risen to be viceroy of Egypt. Might 
not he, more fortunate, aspire a step higher, and rise to be 
king ? But no, his sympathies are with his own oppressed 
nation. Neither his rank and education as a prince of Egypt, 
nor the pride and pomp and pleasures of a palace, had made 
hipa ashamed of his race, or indifferent to their cruel suffer¬ 
ings. The thought of them haunted his pillow by night, and 
engaged his anxious reflections by day. It needed but a 
spark, the touch of a match, to kindle a flame that would 
consume whatever selfishness held him back from making 
common cause with his people, and burn up the last threads 
that bound him to the palace and the household of Pharaoh. 

And this purpose was served by a sight he happened to 
see one day. He had gone out to his brethren to look on 
their burdens, when it chanced that an Egyptian was smiting 
a Hebrew. He felt every blow that fell on the poor crouch¬ 
ing slave. The fated hour had come. With a quick glance, 
he satisfied himself that there were no witnesses in sight, 
then flung himself into the fray. Bestriding his kinsman as 
a champion, it was a small affair to fell the brutal taskmaster 
to the earth, and a few moments sufficed to obliterate all. 
traces of the transaction by hiding the body in the sand. In 
thus identifying himself with his people, and espousing their 
cause, he risks his own life; he casts away riches, honors, 
rank, and perhaps a crown—all to right the wrongs of a 
bleeding wretch in whom his piety recognized a child of God, 


42 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 



MAKING BRICKS IN EGYPT. 1 


and his patriotism a countryman and a brother. In the words 
of St. Pau], “By faith Moses, when he was come to years, re- 


lWe have here depicted a group of bondmen, measuring out the clay, mould¬ 
ing it into blocks, carrying away on yokes the finished bricks, and piling them, 
amder the eyes of their Egyptian taskmasters, who, rod in hand, look on at 
their leisure. These cuts are fac similes from ancient monuments, and are in¬ 
troduced because they give a more exact idea of the arts, manners, etc., of that 
remote period than can be obtained from any other source. 




















































































MOSES. 


43 


fused to be called tbe son of Pharaoh’s daughter; choosing 
rather to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to en¬ 
joy the pleasures of sin for a season; esteeming the reproach 
of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt.” Nursed 
on the lap of luxury, for principle, for conscience, and in 
obedience to the call of humanity, he embraced adversity, bid 
farewell to his kind foster-mother, farewell to his dreams of 
ambition, farewell to his prospects of greatness and to all the 
pleasures of sin. 

And in this the nobility of Moses and his chivalrous char¬ 
acter is apparent, that he had all to lose and could gain 
nothing by casting in his lot with a half million of slaves, 
from whom he might plead that Providence had signally 
separated him, and marked him out for a different and im¬ 
measurably higher life. But between Egypt with its treas¬ 
ures, the prospect of rising to the highest rank in a nation 
the most renowned and the proudest on the earth, the society 
of sages, the splendor of a palace, the glories of a princely 
equipage, the shouts of the admiring populace; and Goshen 
with its slaves, the fellowship of thralls, with all generosity 
and spirit, all taste and intelligence crushed out of them, 
with bread of tears in lieu of royal dainties, and instead of 
floating down the Nile in golden barges amid the strains of 
voluptuous music, scorching in the brick-field amid the 
groans of companions in captivity; betweeen that picture so 
bright with all that could dazzle the fancy and lure the 
senses, and this so gloomy and revolting, Moses hesitated not, 
but made honorable choice, and decision that though rife 
with peril and suffering for the present life, was fraught with 
honor and glory for eternity. 

Thus the choice and the career of Moses are notable for this, 
that coming forth to liberate his people, and to write his 
name highest on the list of the world’s benefactors, he came 
not from the hardening influences of poverty, where the 
character acquires a rugged strength, but from the enervating 


44 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


influences of wealth, and ease, and luxury, winch commonly 
unfit men for grand achievements. • 

You look not for the eagle in the soft-lined nest, swaying 
in the spring zephyr on the branch by your door. The 
pretty songsters of the summer may be nurtured in some 
quiet dell, or beside some placid stream. Not thus the mighty 
condor of the Andes. Comes his daring but majestic swoop from 
any but the cloud-capped summit of some lofty Chimborazo ? 
Standing on the highest point that human foot has trodden, 
you will see his eyrie still above you, and the monarch of the 
air hovering over heights that are inaccessible to man. Serene 
as the snow-capped summits around him, he sails alone where 
the eye of man cannot pierce, looks upon the sun with un¬ 
dazzled vision, and in an untroubled atmosphere sees the 
lightnings leap and play, and hears the thunder burst and the 
hurricane roar far below him. Is he nursed for this in the 
pretty nest, amid green leaves and golden tassels, and the per¬ 
fume of flowers, where soft and warm, the mother-bird of 
sweet voice, and short and feeble flight, rears her tender 
brood? No, his cradle is an open shelf, his nest a few 
rough sticks spread on the naked rock, and exposed 
to the rains that seam the mountain-side, and the blast 
that howls along the ravine. By such hard nursing the 
eagle is bred, and by the bufferings of adversity men 
are made. Few become capable of great deeds while tread¬ 
ing the primrose paths of dalliance, or emerge from a life 
of ease and affluence and culture into the arena of high and 
noble achievement. All honor, then, to the chosen few, of 
whom Moses is the bright exemplar, who, reared in downy 
nests, and used to sunny skies, can yet, when wild winds 
roar, with strong wings cleave the clouds, and breast and 
ride upon the storm. 

Of such magnanimity, history furnishes no instance equal 
to that of the foster-son of the Egyptian Princess. Bred 
in a palace, he espoused the cause of the people. Reared in 


MOSES. 


45 


a school of despots, he became the brave champion of lib¬ 
erty. Long associated with oppressors, he took the side of 
the down-trodden. Educated as the son of a princess, he for¬ 
feited her favor to maintain the rights of the poor. With a 
crown in prospect, he had the magnanimity to choose a cross. 
And for God and his kinsmen he abandoned ease, refinement, 
luxuries, and the highest earthly honors, to be a houseless 
wanderer. 

But in taking his 
own high spirit as the 
rule, Moses miscalcu¬ 
lated the mettle of his 
countrymen. Not only 
was there no readiness 
to rise against their 
taskmasters, but there 
was no honorable feel¬ 
ing among themselves. EGYPTIAN carrying cakes to the oven. 

The man whom his ready stroke had rescued from blows and 
bruises, and perhaps from death, had perilled his benefactor’s 
life by noising abroad the matter; and when on a subsequent 
occasion, he sought to separate two Hebrew combatants, he 
was met with the rough retort, “ Who made thee a prince and 
a jndge over us ? Intendest thou to kill me, as thou killedst 
the Egyptian ?” 

And so began the self-sacrificing and ill-requited labors of 
Moses for his people. Intermitted during his residence 
among the quiet hills of Midian, and resumed after the ap¬ 
pearance of Jehovah to him in the bush, for forty long years 
what reward did Moses receive for these labors but abuse, 
murmurs, opposition, unjust suspicion, and repeated attempts 
on his life ? But the path upon which he had entered he 
pursued to the grave, with a pure, unselfish patriotism which 
no time could weaken, nor injustice and ingratitude cool. 
He identified himself completely with his nation, preferred 





46 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


the interests of his countrymen to his own, and like the 
blessed Redeemer, not only bore much for them, but bore 
much from them. With what meekness he met their inso¬ 
lence, with what patience their provocations, with what for¬ 
giveness their ingratitude; and when God, provoked to cast 
them off, offered to make of him a great nation, with what 
noble generosity did he intercede on their behalf, refusing to 
build his own house on the ruins of theirs. 

The fact of his killing the Egyptian having transpired, 
nothing was left for Moses but to seek safety in flight. And 
it is characteristic of the fairness and candor of the Scripture 
history, that his flight is attributed to the malignity of his 
countrymen rather than to the envy and hatred of the Egyp¬ 
tians. He set out from Egypt a houseless wanderer— 

“ The world was all before him where to choose 
His place of rest, and Providence his guide.” 

And that guide led him to a silent and lonely region near the 
Peninsula of Sinai, a district extremely desolate and solemn— 
lofty mountains raising their sharp ribs and bald summits far 
into the sky, where the pilgrim might pass many days with¬ 
out looking upon the face of man; seldom a living creature 
to be seen except the lizard looking timidly from under the 
stone, or a rabbit, as timid, venturing forth for a furtive nib¬ 
ble in the cool of the day; seldom a sound to be heard except 
the rare murmur of the bee among the acacia blooms, or the 
tinkle of the sand as it slid tunefully down the slopes of the 
granite—the desert’s musical hour-glass—an oratory vast and 
tranquil and unprofaned, and with its absence of idols, a plea¬ 
sant contrast to Egypt—where, for the next forty years, 
Moses was destined to spend many a day of exalted commu¬ 
nion with Abraham’s God and his own, and where, before 
the history ended, he should see the mountains shake, and 
hear those hushed valleys re-echo to the trumpet of angels 
and the voice of Jehovah, 

One day he reached a little oasis in the desert, with a 


MOSES. 


4T 


famous well surrounded by tanks for tbe watering of tbe 
flocks of tbe Bedouin herdsmen. By this well the fugitive 
seated himself, and watched the gathering of the sheep. 
There were the Arabian shepherds, and there were also seven 
maidens, whom the shepherds rudely drove away from the 
water. The chivalrous spirit which had already broken forth 
in behalf of his oppressed countrymen, broke forth again in 
behalf of the distressed maidens. With his native gallantry, 
and his high-spirited resistance to wrong, Moses felt outraged, 
and whether it was awe for the magnificent man, or respect 
for his Egyptian uniform, the churls fell back, and conceded 
to the terrible stranger what they would not have yielded to 
manly feeling, or even the more common-place regard for fair 
play. This characteristic action introduced its author to 
Kaguel or Jethro, and he was rewarded with a home in a 
good man’s house, and in the midst of a family where the 
true God was feared and worshiped. 

It was a great change 
from the court-end of 
Memphis—the fashion¬ 
able quarter of Egypt’s 
metropolis—to the back 
of the desert; it was a 
great change from a pal¬ 
ace to the scanty accom¬ 
modation of a tent, and 

from commanding an beards, EGYPTIAN and other nations. 

army, it was a greater change to herding sheep. But the 
mind is its own kingdom, and the greatest minds are the least 
dependent on outward accommodations. The pleasures of 
Egypt were far from unalloyed. They were too much the 
joys of sense, and were so mixed up with idolatrous observ¬ 
ances as to pollute and poison them all, and make them “ the 
pleasures of sin.” But with the meditative leisure he eajoyed 
among the lonely mountains, with the piety which he found 



48 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


in the homestead of the priest of Midian, and with the domes¬ 
tic affection to which he returned when, in the cool of the 
day, he brought back his flock to the canvas village, and 
Zipporah and his boy came forth to meet him, he was thank¬ 
ful for his peaceful seclusion, and felt what another was after¬ 
ward to Sing, “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. 
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, He leadeth 
me beside the still waters, He maketh me to walk in the 
paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.” 

In these pastoral pursuits the years glided smoothly on. 
At length came an eventful day, and yet a day ushered in by 
no special sign nor devoted to any unusual solemnity. Moses 
had led out his flock as far as Sinai, where in some of the 
ravines could be found a fragrant pasture for the goats and 
the sheep, and where there was a good store of water. The 
Lord was about to appear to him in the flame. It was a 
sword of fire which guarded the gates of Eden. It was in a 
chariot of fire that Elijah ascended to heaven. It was a pil¬ 
lar of fire which guided the pilgrims in their desert journey, 
and which afterward settled down between the cherubim in 
the Holy of Holies. It was with tongues of fire that the 
Holy Spirit symbolized His presence on the day of Pentecost. 
And it was with an effulgence beyond the noon that the fury¬ 
breathing persecutor was dashed down on the way to Damas¬ 
cus. So that the element which we deem the purest and the 
most penetrating, Jehovah seems to have employed as His 
special badge and cognizance, the opening of His eye, the 
flash of His finger. 

But of this Moses was not thinking, when a great sight 
arrested his eye. A bush, no palm nor olive, but a tamarisk, 
or a thorny acacia, shone out with a brilliant flame. It did 
not crackle nor burn down, and Moses was hastening to the 
spot, when his foot was arrested by a voice Divine, a voice 
which soon brought him to the dust, hiding his face and fear¬ 
ing to look upon God. In the wonderful interview which 


MOSES. 


49 


followed, the Lord announced His name and the purpose for 
which he had now appeared to His servant, and with mar¬ 
velous condesension meeting all the scruples of a meek and 
self-disparaging recluse, He sent him home the most highly 
favored and heavily burdened among the sons of men; 
the most highly favored, inasmuch as he was the first to 
whom, after the silence of ages, Jehovah had spoken ; the most 
heavily burdened, inasmuch as he felt crushed and over¬ 
whelmed with the commission which he dared not lay down, 
and which he trembled to discharge. 

Two signs accompanied these Divine communications to 
Moses, the one characteristic of his past life in Egypt, the 
other of his life as a shepherd. In the rush of leprosy into 
his hand is the link between him and the people whom the 
Egyptians called a nation of lepers. In the transformation 
of his shepherd’s staff is the glorification of the simple pas¬ 
toral life, of which that staff was the symbol, into the great 
career which lay before him. And in addition to these two 
miracles, the Lord gifted him with the power of working a 
third, the turning of water into blood, so that he should go 
to his countrymen with three portable miracles as credentials 
—with the power of performing three prodigies, which should 
be as well adapted to the untutored minds of his brethren as 
the beautiful sign of the 
burning bush was to his 
own. u Turn thatr rod 
into a serpent, and from 
a serpent back into a rod 
again. Draw thy hand 
from thy bosom, it is 
leprous ; do it again and 
it is sound. Change 



EGYPTIAN BASKETS. 


the water of the Nile into blood. 
thee , they will believe the sign; 
second will succeed.” 

4 


If they will not believe 
and if one sign fail, a 






50 


BRoBBErs OF 'fHE BIBLE; 


That burning hush laid a iastiiig hold on the memory and 
the imagination of Moses, When his commission was ended, 
when about to lay down his miraculous rod, and recalling 
how not one of the good things which God had spoken had 
failed, and how all the difficulties which his own timidity 
had conjured up had disappeared, he reverted to this memo¬ 
rable scene, and in blessing all the tribes, the best blessing 
he could wish for Joseph was “ the good will of Him that 
■ dwelt in the bush.” Apart from all its adjuncts the sight 
was striking. In connection with the affliction in Egypt, 
:and the deliverance which from that instant dated, it was a 
: sight never to be forgotten, and profoundly significant. “The 
bush burned,” it did not simply gleam with a mere phosphor¬ 
escent or lambent light, but it “burned with fire.” And it 
was with Moses an amazement how so fierce a flame could 
involve the branches and yet leave them fresh and green. 
Assuredly a sign, it was a symbol also; not merely a pro¬ 
digy, but a lesson to the eye, a symbol interpreted when 
from the burning bush Jehovah said, “I have seen the afflic¬ 
tion of my people in Egypt, and have heard their cry by 
reason of their taskmasters.” Israel in the furnace of Egyp¬ 
tian bondage, was emblemed by the bush preserved amidst 
the fire, burning yet not consumed. And the Church of God 
in all ages and in all lands has had a similar preservation to 
record. Made up of all true believers by whatever name 
called, and dwelling in whatever heathen or Christian lands, 
! God has been with it, and the fires of persecution have raged 
in vain. 

And the individual believer, like the collective company 
■of God’s people, may be compared to this bush. Like the 
lowly shrub in Horeb, you feel small compared with the 
trees of the wood. Your abode is obscure, your attainments 
ffiumble. You are a root out of a dry ground, and growing 
where there are few advantages. And to make you more 
anxious, the fire has kindled upon you. You are in straits 


MOSES. 


51 


in grievous perplexity and trouble. You are in pain your¬ 
self, or in deep distress on account of others—in the furnace 
of affliction, as we say. Perhaps you are assaulted by fiery 
darts of Satan, fierce temptations, allurements to some great 
wickedness, till, in the red-hot rain, you feel as if you must 
be utterly consumed. But call on God, and He will come to 
your rescue. The bush may be in the fire, but if God be in 
the bush it runs no risk; the flame that laps it round may 
consume the canker-worms and caterpillars that prey upon 
its verdure, but they will not scorch the tiniest sprig nor 
consume the most tender blossom. There is no affliction so 
severe but under it God can support, and carry you out of it 
more than a conqueror. There is no furnace so hot as to 
consume a hair of your head if the Son of God be with you 
there. Whether it be the frail body of an afflicted believer, 
or the twigs and tendrils of a bush in the desert, which forms 
the place of God’s special in-dwelling, no fire of earth or hell 
can hurt a living shrine of the God-head, or consume a tem¬ 
ple of the Holy Ghost. 

There is something wonderfully sublime and spirit-filling 
in the name by which the Most High announced Himself to 
Moses in the bush, and by which, in its form of Jehovah, He 
is designated throughout the Old Testament Scriptures. “ I am 
that I am,” the Self-existent, the Immutable, the Eternal, the 
one living God, to the exclusion of the lords many, which 
Egypt and the other idolaters adored. But self-sufficing 
as His perfections are, His compassions are as great, and 
most gracious and forthgoing His propensities. The pleni¬ 
tude of His own joy occasions no indifference to the cry of 
the Hebrew bondmen—the absoluteness of His perfections 
is itself a necessity for fulfilling the promise to the patri¬ 
archs. And nothing in the Divine nature is so august or 
so glorious but it may become to the believer the theme of 
pleasing contemplation; and frail mortals as we are, we 
may be taken up into God’s eternity, and find within His 


52 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


unchanging name our impregnable and immortal dwelling- 
place. 

At the hush begins the prophet-life of Moses, and it is a 
fitting place to sum up what is said in the Scriptures about 


his prophetic character. 
He is the first, as he is 
the greatest example of 
a prophet in the Old 
Testament. In a cer¬ 
tain sense, he appears as 
the center of a prophetic 
circle. His brother and 
sister were both endowed 
with prophetic gifts. El- 
dad and Medad and the 
seventy elders all pro¬ 
phesied. But Moses rose 
high above all these. 



With him the Divine 


revelations were made “ mouth to mouth, even apparently, 
and not in dark speeches, and he beheld the similitude of 
Jehovah.” Of the especial modes of this direct communica¬ 
tion, four great examples are given, corresponding to four 
critical epochs in his historical career. First, the appearance 
of the Divine presence in the flaming acacia tree, which we 
have just noticed. Ho form is described. The angel or 
messenger is spoken of as being “ in the flame.” Secondly, 
in the giving of the law from Mt. Sinai, the outward form of 
the revelation was a thick darkness as of a thunder-cloud out 
of which proceeded a voice. The revelation on this occasion 
was especially of the name of Jehovah. On two occasions 
Moses is described as having penetrated within the darkness, 
and remained there successively for two periods of forty days, 
of which the second was spent in absolute seclusion and fast¬ 
ing. Thirdly, it was nearly at the close of these communi- 









MOSES. 


53 


cations in the mountains of Sinai that an especial revelation 
was made to him personally. In the despondency produced 
by the apostasy of the molten calf, he besought Jehovah to show 
him His glory. The Divine answer announced that an actual 
vision of God was impossible. “ Thou canst not see my face; 
for there shall no man see my face and live.” He was com¬ 
manded to hew two blocks of stone like those which he had de¬ 
stroyed. He was to come absolutely alone. He took his place on 
u the rock,” that is, on a rock so well known or prominent as 
to be thus designated. The cloud passed by. A voice 
proclaimed the two immutable attributes of God, Justice and 
Love, in words which became part of the religious creed of 
Israel and of the world. Fourthly, immediately after the 
catastrophe of the worship of the calf, and apparently in con¬ 
sequence of it, Moses removed the chief tent outside the 
camp, and invested it with a sacred character, under the name 
of “ The Tent or Tabernacle of the Congregation.” This tent 
became henceforth the chief scene of his communications 
with God. And now a peculiarity is mentioned which 
apparently had not been seen before. On his final descent 
from Mt. Sinai, after his second long seclusion, a splendor 
shone on his face, as if from the glory of the Divine Presence. 

The prophetical office, as represented in the history of 
Moses, included the poetical form of composition which char¬ 
acterizes the Jewish prophecy generally. These poetical 
utterances enter so largely into the full biblical conception 
of his character, that we shall mention them here. 1. The 
song which Moses and the children of Israel sung after the 
passage of the Red Sea. This is the oldest piece of poetry 
extant. 2. A fragment of a war-song against Amalek, Exodus 
xvii. 16. 3. A fragment of a lyrical burst of indignation, 

Exodus xxxii. 18. 4. Fragments of war-songs, and the 
address to the well, in the 21st chapter of Numbers, and 
emanating probably either from Moses or his immediate pro¬ 
phetic followers. 5. The song of Moses, setting forth the 


54 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


greatness and the failings of Israel, and abounding both in 
the beautiful and the sublime. 6. The blessing of Moses on 
the tribes, Deut. 33d chapter. 7. The 90th Psalm, a prayer 
of Moses the man*of God. Of this we propose to speak 
somewhat more in detail. Although some difficulties have 
been started about the authorship of this Psalm, there seems 
no reason to doubt that it is the composition of Moses. As 
such, though probably of a more recent date than the song 
of triumph at the Bed Sea, it is yet one of the oldest poems 
in the world. Compared with it Homer and Pindar are 
modern, and even King David is of recent date. That is to 
say, the other psalms are as much more modern than this 
ancient hymn, as Tennyson and Longfellow are more modern 
than Chaucer. In either case there are nearly five centuries 
between. 

The occasion on which it was written can only be con¬ 
jectured, but from internal evidence we should say it was 
toward the end of the sojourn in the wilderness, when the 
greater part of those who came out of Egypt had perished, 
and perhaps among the living only two besides Moses had 
attained the age of fourscore. He indeed had nearly made 
out the sixscore years, but this only made him the more 
lonely, the greater contrast to the youthful race which had 
started up around him. In the million of human beings 
which formed the great Hebrew encampment, there was no 
one with whom in the days of his youth the Psalmist had 
been acquainted. As if a flood had swept over the scene, 
that race had been carried completely away, and now he was 
left at once a spectator and a spectacle, in the midst of a race 
none of whom had known him when young, like the prime¬ 
val oak or elm looking down on a whole upstart forest, and 
himself the venerable monument of a generation which had 
utterly vanished. Nothing can be more pathetic than this 
psalm, nor anything more expressive than the imagery under 
which the shortness of our earthly existence is described. 


MOSES. 


55 


Compared with the years of the eternal it is nothing. Even 
though the thousand years of Adam and Methusaleh were 
still vouchsafed, they would pass—and after they were past, 
they would look no more than a rapid &nd returnless “ yes¬ 
terday.” Life, he says, is like “ a watch in the night.” The 
weary warrior lays him down, and he fancies he has hardly 
closed his eyes, when he is roused to take his turn in the 
trenches, or relieve the sentinel on the battlements, or join 
the forlorn hope, the storming party in the escalade. And 
like such a short “sleep” is our mortal historjr. We have 
had some pleasant dreams, and others rather frightful, when 
we wake up and see a ghastly apparation bending over us. 
“ What, 0 death! is that you already ? It cannot possibly 
be time.” And he answers, “Yes, indeed. The tale is told; 
the night is spent; you must turn out into the morning. 
The time has passed more rapidly than you think. Look at 
the clock and you will see that it has come to threescore and 
ten. Look into the mirror and you will see that there are 
snows upon your head, that there are furrows on your brow, 
that there are crows’-feet in the corners of your eyes.” 

From the wreck and desolation all around him, the Psalmist 
lifts his eyes to that true and only Potentate, who alone hath 
immortality. Of all the godly generations God is the eternal 
home. Nothing which He once blesses with His friendship 
is ever blotted out of being. The tabernacle is gone, but the 
pilgrim lives. The tent is torn and scattered amongst the 
elements, but the pilgrim has exchanged its frail and flimsy 
shelter for a house eternal. He has got better than any 
building made with hands, for he has passed in beneath the 
covert of the Almighty, and will henceforth have that home 
which God had for Himself before the mountains were brought 
forth, or ever He had formed the earth and the world. 

But if man be so ephemeral, life so fleeting—“Lord, teach 
us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto 
wisdom.” Children learn numbers as soon as they begin to 


56 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


prattle, and we do not need an instructor to teach us to count 
a hundred on our fingers. So much the more shameful is 
our stupidity in never comprehending the short term of our 
own life. Men can measure all distances outside of them¬ 
selves ; they can tell how far asunder are the several planets, 
and how many miles it is from the center of the moon to the 
center of the earth, but they cannot measure the threescore 
years and ten which divide their cradle from their grave. So 
it is well for us to ask from God the Divine wisdom which 
shall make us skillful in this celestial computation. 

But we pass from the poetical compositions of Moses, to 
consider his historical writings, which are probably to be 
referred to the period of his residence in Midian. We have 
traced his fortunes up to that time, and have seen something 
of the preparation for authorship which his training in Egypt 
would give him. We have seen him growing up a scholar, 
an inquiring spirit, intellectual and well-informed, initiated 
in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, acquainted with geometry 
and the movements of the heavenly bodies, with the juris¬ 
prudence and chronology of that wise and ancient people. 
But although adorned with these “ Egyptian jewels,” we have 
seen how his heart continued leal to his people, and how, dis¬ 
daining the bribes of ambition, he quitted the tyrant’s palace 
a Hebrew and a patriot. We have seen how the active and 
athletic frame into which his goodly childhood had grown, 
was animated by the soul of a hero. And we have seen him 
a fugitive and an exile, escaping to a sublime but lonely re¬ 
gion, and finding an asylum in a good man’s tent, where 
amidst simple pursuits, domestic affections, and the society 
of those by whom the true God was known and worshiped, 
Egypt and its enjoyments, if not Egypt and its captivities, 
could easily be forgotten. 

Here it was, we believe, that he wrote the book of Genesis. 
Without doubt, this is the oldest book extant, if not the first 
ever written. And before all others in point of time, what 


MOSES. 


57 


author occupies himself with themes of such surpassing 
grandeur ? It was given to him to record events which, 
receding into a past and stretching forward into a future eter¬ 
nity, had God for their author, the world for their theater, 
and for their end the everlasting destinies of mankind. He 
solves the question of the origin of man. Taught by the 
Almighty Maker Himself, Moses tells how from earthly ele¬ 
ments God formed man’s body, and how from God Himself, 
and His inbreathing, came man’s soul. “ God made man 
after His own image.” Look round on man as he actually 
is, too often brutalized, besotted, scant of intellect—and 
through the disfiguring filth and wretchedness espy the im¬ 
mortal, the runaway child of the Eternal! In the fragments 
of the crushed jewel, discern something of its original bright¬ 
ness and glory. Behold in your own nature what should 
make each man a terror and a glory, a grief and a rejoicing, 
to himself. Is this understanding of mine an image of God’s 
intelligence ? this imagination of mine an image of God’s im¬ 
mensity ? this immortality of mine an image of God’s eter¬ 
nity ? This soul which I have got—was it made on purpose 
to love the holy as God loves it ? to shed affection and bless¬ 
ing and good-will as these pour with sun-like constancy from 
God’s own beneficence ? Was it made to commune with the 
Most High in lowly confidence and ever-nearing intimacy ? 
Then what a work there is for thee, 0 Spirit of grace, to bring 
this nature, so debauched, debased, back to its first estate! 
And to recover tastes pure and holy, aspirations high‘and 
heavenly, what a work is there for myself! Ood made man 
after His own image. That one sentence at the opening of the 
Bible gives to mental science new grandeur, and to man him¬ 
self an awful and august significance. We feel that as God 
is immortal, man will be. 

“Not in entire forgetfulness, 

And not in utter nakedness, 

But trailing clouds of glory do we come 

From God who is our home.” 


58 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


And in the great I am we still shall have life— a life that the 
death of the body cannot extinguish. 

But it is hardly possible in a few flying sentences to pre- 
sent an epitome of the contents of this most comprehensive 
book. Commencing with the commencement of our human 
history; nay, we may say commencing with the com¬ 
mencement of the universe—for it tells that the universe 
is not eternal; it had a beginning, and God is its 
Creator—commencing with the dawn of human history; 
it exhibits man at home in the world, with the production 
of six creative days around him, the plants and animals so 
various^o beautiful, and so fitted for man’s use. There is rest 
and there is worship, for it is the Sabbath, the first in a long 

series. Then come 
work, observation, in¬ 
telligence, culture, the 
muster of the animals, 
named by an acute 
and friendly natural¬ 
ist; that tilling and 
dressing of the ground 
in which man exercises 
his delegated faculty as a subordinate creator and improver, 
making that which is already “ good” still better; that social 
converse which is the still more important culture of himself. 
Then follows the first sin, the first shame, the first flight from 
God’s presence. Then comes the first death, the dismal death 
of one who had brought back to earth much of the lost inno¬ 
cence and piety; a death amid blows and bloodshed; a death 
by that dear hand which in tottering infancy the younger 
brother had often clasped as much for love as guidance; a 
death which leaves the afflicted parents doubly desolate, for 
their one son is in a martyr’s early grave, and their other son 
is the outcast murderer. Sin worketh death, and we have 
the development in that old world’s depravity, till the flood 



HIPPOPOTAMUS. 


MOSES. 


59 


comes and clears it all away. The ark is aground on Ararat, 
and for a moment there is devotion, there is gratitude. But 
Noah’s altar has scarcely ceased to smoke, and above the drip¬ 
ping crags and from the sundering clouds the rainbow flag has 
scarcely disappeared, when on the soil of the rescued family 
sin is sprouting faster than blades of grass are springing from 
the surface of the soft and reeking earth. And by and by 
we see the Tower of Babel rising, with its proud effort to lift 
the name of Nimrod to the stars, and form a capital for all 
mankind. But lo I by a strange confusion in their speech, we 
see the centripetal attraction suddenly exchanged for a centri¬ 
fugal repulsion, and from around the stunted, unfinished 
tower the vexed and alienated clans are pressing outward, 
each along his separate radius, to meet no more till one great 
speech shall reunite the fragments of the exploded family. 
Having sent forth on their several ways the races still so in¬ 
teresting : those sons of Ham, on whom a father’s fault has 
long pressed heavily; those phlegmatic sons of Shem, with 
whom India and China are still teeming; and those others 
with the flowing beard and flashing eye, in whom we still 
recognize the Arab and the Jew; and last of all, those sons 
of Japheth, by whom the isles of the Gentiles should be peo¬ 
pled, pilgrims of the square forehead, the sturdy step and 
iron sinew, having for the present sent away to harden 
amidst their northern mists and snows these future tutors and 
rulers of mankind, till such season as they should reappear 
and take up their residence in the tents of Shem—the record 
narrows in, and leaving the history of the world, the sacred 
penman restricts himself to the fortunes of the peculiar peo¬ 
ple. And for nine-and-thirty chapters, that history is rather 
a succession of family records than the annals of a nation. 
Patriarch follows patriarch, and many an incidental personage 
flits across the scene. But even at the last the clan only 
musters threescore souls and ten, and it is only in the four centu¬ 
ries which lie betwixt Genesis and Exodus that the Abra- 


60 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


hamic clan lias grown into tlie great and numerous Hebrew 
nation. 

It is at tbis point that Moses lays down the pen and ap¬ 
pears upon the stage himself as chief actor. Haying completed 
his account of the leading events in the world’s history prior 
to his day—himself destined to take a part in events equally 
momentous with those which he had chronicled, he enters 
upon the third and most active division of his life. Forty 
years he had spent in Egypt, forty in Midian, forty he was to 
pass as the leader of God’s chosen people. For this mission 
he had been unconsciously preparing in both the former 
periods of his life. In Egypt he had got some insight into 
statesmanship and military affairs, and received in his palace 
life a portion of his training. The science and the jurispru¬ 
dence of Egypt would be used by him in his future work, 
so far as they could be made available for this purpose. In 
leading a million of men out of bondage, in providing for and 
ruling them forty years in the desert, in moulding them into 
a nation, in framing for them a code of laws by which they 
and their children should be governed forever, and which 
should be the foundation for the jurisprudence of all Christian 
nations—he would certainly need all that he had acquired of 
the “ wisdom of the Egyptians,” as well as a deeper lore than 
they were able to furnish. And the latter he gained in the 
desert. In common with most of those who have been called 
to head great moral revolutions, a period of seclusion and 
abstraction formed a principal part of his preparation. In 
communion with God and with nature, in the self-questionings 
of an absolute privacy and solitude, the spirit is strengthened 
to contend with error and wrong. And to fit him for the 
undertaking before him Moses needed a profound and peculiar 
spiritual discipline. He needed to grow in acquaintance with 
that God with whom he was hereafter to commune face to 
face, and whose messenger and spokesman he was to be in a 
manner so special and pre-eminent. He needed to be lifted 


MOSES. 


61 


completely and conclusively above those mixed or meaner 
motives by which well-intentioned men are so often in large 
measure actuated. He needed to be raised nearer heaven 
than earth; and we may add, he needed to have his entire 
spirit so habituated to lofty thoughts, so accustomed and 
inured to live at a high level, that in after days, 

“ As some tall rock amidst the waves 
The fury of the tempest braves," 

so his spirit should be able to surmount the molestations and 
the murmurs, the opposition and the obloquy, which for the 
next forty years, like a troubled sea, would chafe and churn 
around him. 

For such purpose no re¬ 
tirement could have been 
more suitable than the 
desert of Horeb, that 
“ great and terrible wilder¬ 
ness,” which travelers de- reaping wheat, egypt. 

scribe as, for the most part, a vision of utter barrenness and 
desolation; with no soft feature in the landscape to mitigate 
the unbroken horror. Ho green spot, no tree, no flower, no 
rill, no lake, but dark brown ridges, red peaks like pyramids 
of solid fire; no rounded hillocks, or soft mountain curves, 
such as one sees in the ruggedest of home scenes, but mon¬ 
strous and misshapen cliffs, rising tier above tier, and 
surmounted here and there by some spire-like summit, serrated 
for miles into ragged grandeur, and grooved from head to 
foot by the winter torrents which have swept down like 
bursting water-spouts, tearing their naked loins, and cutting 
into the very veins and sinews of the fiery rock. 

Amidst this labyrinth of bald and blasted mountains, Moses 
dwelt forty years; and although it is vain to surmise what 
were all the thoughts and musings of this protracted interval, 
we are inclined to think that a glimpse is given in that 



































62 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


ninetieth Psalm of which we have already spoken, written, 
no doubt, many years after this, but embodying the reflections 
of this period, and acquiring a new significance when we 
think of the hermit lifting up his eyes to these lonely silent 
pinnacles, and thinking: “ Before the mountains were brought 
forth, or ever Thou hadst formed the earth and the world, 
even from everlasting to everlasting, Thou art God.” And 
then, when his thoughts reverted to the wretched scenes in 
Egypt: “Return, OLord, how long? And let it repent Thee 
concerning Thy servants. Make us glad according to the 
days wherein Thou hast afflicted us, and the years wherein 
we have seen evil. Let Thy work appear unto Thy servants, 
and Thy glory unto their children. And let the beauty of 
the Lord our God be upon us; and establish Thou the work 
of our hands upon us; yea, the work of our hands establish 
Thou it.” Thus the closing paragraph of the Psalm would 
have reference both to the bondage in Egypt, and the long 
wandering in the desert, brought on by the cowardice and 
rebellion of the Israelites. 

Perhaps, too, the book of Job was composed by Moses 
during this period of leisure. It is throughout impregnated 
with the ideas and usages of the kind of life which he was 
now leading. But many doubt that he was the author. We 
do not propose to discuss the question: but if the book was 
written by him, this is the time of his life to which its 
composition should be assigned. 

The sojourn in the land of Midian, while a season of 
preparation for the more active duties to follow, was doubt¬ 
less the most delightful portion of Moses’ life—happier than 
when in Egypt, as the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, he received 
the homage of servile crowds, while his heart yearned sore 
after his father’s house, and he knew himself the object of 
secret dislike and envy to those who bowed before him— 
happier than when in later life the burden of Israel lay upon 
him, and he felt that burden almost too heavy to bear. This 


MOSES. 


63 


was the period of his prime. He lived one hundred and 
twenty years, and this was the middle period of his life. As 
in a life of sixty years, the time from twenty to forty would 
be considered the time of the greatest activity, so the Midian 
life of Moses would, by ordinary rules, have been the period 
of strongest action, of sternest realities, of most resolute 
purposes. But in fact it was the period of least apparent 
action, in which he lived in seclusion and quiet, preferring 
the humble duties of pastoral life. He married; he had two 
sons; he led his flock to the pastures and the waters. This 
forms the history of that period of life which is to other 
men the time of the most vehement action. The days of his 
quiet repose and secluded rest preceded instead of following 
the days of his labor. And the closing epoch of his life was 
undoubtedly the most active in all his existence. 

But obscure and uneventful as was the life of Moses in 
Midian, and furnishing few materials for biography, it was far 
from being idle or useless. The duties of pastoral and 
domestic existence, while they do not involve the labors and 
responsibilities of him who stands out to take a part in the 
public life of nations, are still sufficient to occupy—not un¬ 
pleasantly or uselessly—the time and attention of any man of 
moderate desires and simple tastes. It is a life, moreover, 
that affords much leisure for thought and meditation; and 
hence the distinction which men of pastoral habits have on 
many occasions acquired. The two greatest men in the Old 
Testament, Moses and David, were called from following the 
sheep to be the leaders of God’s flock of Israel. 

How Moses enjoyed the kind of life he led, and how little 
he desired to quit it for a wider and grander field of labor, 
is shown by the manner in which he received the call to 
proceed to Egypt for the deliverance of Israel. His seclusion 
was so pleasant to him, that the idea of quitting it to encoun¬ 
ter the storms and high tasks of active life, was most alarming 
when first presented to his mind. We have already described 


64 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


the appearance of God by a visible emblem in tl^e flame of 
fire in the midst of the thorn-tree. A voice from the bush 
commanded him to show the common mark of Oriental respect 
for a superior presence or holy spot, by taking off his sandals 
and standing barefoot. He then knew that the Lord’s 
presence was manifested there; for it is His presence that 
maketh holy. He obeyed, and stood wondering what manner 
of communication awaited him. The speaker thus announced 
himself: “I am the God of thy father, and of Abraham and 
Isaac and Jacob.” God could not have described himself 



by a sweeter name than this. We love anything that was 
our ancestors’. The most trifling thing that once belonged 
to them has our reverence. What a hold should their God 
have upon us! And what a happiness it is to be born of 
good parents! God claims an interest in us, and we may 
claim an interest in Him, for their sake. Many a man smarts 
for his father’s sin, but on the other hand the goodness of 
pious ancestors descends in blessings to remote generations. 

And mark, God does not say, I was the God of Abraham, 
but I am. The patriarchs still live after so many hundred 
years of dissolution. ISTo length of time can separate the 
souls of the just from their Maker. 

The communication to Moses goes on. God declared 
that He had beheld with Divine compassion the miseries 












MOSES. 


65 


of His people, and that the time for their deliverance was come. 
All this was well. It doubtless made the heart of Moses glad. 
But the closing words filled him with consternation, for they de¬ 
clared that he was to go back to Egypt, to present himself before 
the king, and to demand for Israel leave to depart. This filled 
him with unfeigned astonishment. “ Who am I, that I should 
go unto Pharaoh, and that I should bring the children of Israel 
out of Egypt ?” The answer was sufficient, “ I will be with thee.” 
Still Moses was not satisfied. The difficulties 'of the enter¬ 
prise, his own supposed unfitness for it, his reluctance to 
plunge into the conflicts he foresaw, all crowded upon his 
thoughts, and made his heart sad. One objection after another 
that he produced was removed; yet when he had nothing 
further to urge in the way of specific objection, he rolled the 
whole mass of reluctant feeling into one strong groan for 
release from so fearful a task: “0 my Lord, send I pray 
Thee, by the hand of him whom thou wilt send.” But he 
was the man appointed for that task. For this he had been 
born; for this preserved; for this trained; and there was no 
escape for him. God knew his fitness better than Moses 
knew himself, and the command became imperative upon 
him. Many causes may be assigned for his reluctance. He 
had reconciled his mind to his condition, with which he was 
contented. He knew too well the court of Egypt to have any 
desire to return to it, especially with a hostile purpose. He 
had no wish to become the chief of a multitude of miserable 
slaves, not fit for war, and not trained to submission under a 
mild and equitable government. He saw no means of sup¬ 
porting such a multitude in a march across the desert to 
Palestine, even if they should escape the hostility of the 
Egyptians; and no probability that at the head of such in¬ 
vaders he could conquer Palestine. But above all, Moses 
had no adequate faith in his Employer, the speaker from the 
burning bush. That Employer might possess all power; but 
could Moses rely upon being able, at all times of his need, to 
5 


66 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


command the exercise of that power ? It is clear that this 
distrust was at the bottom of the extreme reluctance shown 
by Moses to accept of the commission to rescue the Israelites; 
for afterward when he found himself supported and backed 
by that Being under whom he acted, his proceedings were 
prompt, and his courage and zeal never failed. 

But while want of faith was thus at the bottom of his 
unwillingness to accept the important office to which he was 
called, we must admit that humility also was an important 
'element in the motives which held him back. Whatever 
proud swelling thoughts had once filled his mind have long 
since subsided, and he has dwindled down in his own esteem 
into the son of a Hebrew thrall and the keeper of Jethro’s 
cattle. It might have been said to him: Are not you the 
son of Pharaoh’s daughter, and the topmost man among your 
people? The fosterling of royalty, the favorite of fortune, 
the courtier and the scholar, the statesman and the sage— 
having every qualification for the work before you, by blood 
an Israelite, by education an Egyptian, learned, wise, valiant, 
experienced ? But to all this Moses would answer: For the 
matter in hand I have not a single aptitude, but for every¬ 
thing required—superior sanctity, personal prowess, the gift 
of persuasive oratory—there is in me a special deficiency. 
And thus the man who earlier in his career felt himself the 
very person to deliver Israel, and was ready enough to take 
upon him and to lay about him, now declares his utter 
incompetency for the task imposed, and with unfeigned 
modesty shrinks from entering upon it. 

But God overruled all the objections of Moses, and Aaron 
having been joined with him in the commission to Pharaoh, 
he returned to Egypt. The state of that country had so far 
changed since his flight from it, that he incurred no personal 
danger in making his appearance. All were dead who sought 
his life, or to whom he had 'been an object of dislike or envy; 
and if they had lived, there was nothing in his existing posi- 


MOSES. 


67 

tion to awaken their ancient and forgotten resentments. It 
must not be supposed that when he reappeared in Egypt, it 
was forgotten who and what he had been, or that he made 
any concealment of it. His very name, so peculiar and 
distinctive, and his connection with his brother Aaron, must 
have suggested the fact. It is more probable that it was the 
knowledge of his former connection with the court, which 
procured him the more ready access to the king, and enabled 
him to speak to him with freedom, and to win from him more 
attention than any other Israelite could have secured. The 
knowledge of his thorough Egyptian education may also 
have disposed them to listen to him with more respect than 
might have been shown to any who could not boast a privilege 
which they so highly appreciated. He was in their view an 
educated man, while all the other Israelites were probably 
little more in their sight than an uneducated rabble. In all 
countries education consists in the knowledge of certain things, 
which he who knows not is held to be uneducated, whatever 
else he may know. 

There were, therefore, no difficulties in the way of Moses 
but such as resulted from the nature of his mission; and he 
appeared under advantages which no other of his people 
could claim. Nevertheless, the result of his application to 
the Egyptian court was at first far from favorable. He pre¬ 
ferred his request in this simple form: “Thussaith Jehovah, 
the God of Israel, let my people go, that they may hold a 
feast unto me in the wilderness.” The king’s answer was 
short and terribly decisive: “ Who is Jehovah that I should 
obey his voice to let Israel go ? I know not Jehovah, neither 
will I let Israel go.” We are not to infer from this that 
Pharaoh was an atheist. That was not the religion of Egypt, 
which had only too many gods. But he regarded Jehovah 
merely as the special and particular god of the Hebrews, and he 
saw nothing in their condition to convince him that their god 
possessed such power as to make it necessary for him to 


68 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


obey. It therefore behooved the Lord, through His com¬ 
missioned servant, to set forth His power in the eyes of the 
Egyptians, and convince them that the demand came from 
One whose high behests were not to be despised. This is 
the meaning of the great transactions which followed. There 
was a contest for power between the idols of Egypt and the 
God of Israel. The king did not deny the existence of Jehovah, 
or that he had authorized such a demand as Moses made in 
His name; but regarding Him only as the national god of the 
Hebrews, he considered that Egypt had stronger gods of its 
own, who would not fail to protect it from whatever anger 
the god of the Israelites might evince at the neglect of a 
mandate opposed to the interests of a nation under their 
guardianship. 

From the nature of the case the conflict could only be one 
of miracles. And Moses appears as the first in that series 
of prophets who were at once seers and workers of signs. He 
was the first, as the apostles were the last, who wrought 
miracles in attestation of their Divine commission. And as 
the first example of a Divine message accredited by miracles, 
as the commencement of that system where heaven-imparted 
truth calls in as its sanction heaven-imparted power, the 
narrative at this point is peculiarly instructive. The first 
miracle performed was the turning of Aaron’s staff into a 
serpent. This was a sign well suited to the understanding of 
an Egyptian king, considering the extent to which serpents 
figured among the symbols and objects of his faith. He sent 
for his wise men and sorcerers; and now the contest between 
the Jewish leaders and the court of Egypt fairly began. The 
“wise men” threw down their staves in like manner, and 
they also became serpents. How was this accomplished? 
Some think that by the power of Satan these acts were 
really performed as represented; while others hold that they 
were acts of legerdemain, or produced by great skill in the 
natural sciences. The latter view seems to us correct. The 


MOSES 


69 


taming of serpents so as to conceal them about the person, 
and substitute them by a sudden movement for something 
held in the hand, is well known to be in the East, at the 
present day, one of the common arts of jugglery. The mere 
appearance of the transformation of a rod into a serpent by 
an adroit and sudden concealment of the one and production 
of the other, is certainly an illusion fully within the power 
of modern serpent charmers. There is in fact a serpent in 
Egypt, which by a particular pressure upon the neck, becomes 
so intensely inflated as to be quite rigid and motionless, not 
unlike a staff. In this state it may be held out horizontally, 



ARARAT. 

without bend or flexure. But on being again touched in a 
particular manner, it recovers from its trance. May not this 
serpent have been employed by the Egyptians? In this 
case the very difference between the real and pretended 
miracle is, that while the real serpents of the wise men as¬ 
sumed the appearance of rods, the real rod of Moses became 
a real serpent; and when both were opposed in a state of 
animated existence, the rod devoured the real living animals, 


















to 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


thus conquering the great typical representation of the pro¬ 
tecting divinity of Egypt. Here was something far above 
delusive art, and we do not read that the magicians attempted 
to imitate it. Serpents do not naturally devour each other, 
neither could one serpent devour many. Nor could there have 
been delusion here ; for the feeding of serpents is always a 
slow operation, and in this instance it was watched by keen 
and suspicious eyes. 

But this transaction seems to have made no impression 
upon the king, favorable to the claim of the Israelites; and 
the next acts were acts of judgment, since that which was 
merely demonstrative had been disregarded. Considering 
the estimation in which the river Nile was held by the Egyp¬ 
tians, who regarded it as a god it is not without meaning that 
the first judgment smote that god, and rendered its most 
pleasant and salubrious waters noisome and pestiferous. 
Aaron, acting as usual fcfe* his brother, lifted up his rod and 
smote the waters that were in the river, and they became 
blood. We do not propose to consider this plague, and those 
which followed it, in detail, but pass them with one or two 
general remarks. 

First, there is a certain congruity between these superna¬ 
tural visitations and the land on which they were inflicted. 
Although the rapidity with which they succeeded one an¬ 
other, although the circumstance of their coming on and 
departing whenever Moses gave the word, and no sooner, 
although the exemption of Goshen when the rest of Egypt 
was overwhelmed—all show the Hand Omnipotent from 
which they came, yet the visitations themselves were more 
or less characteristic of the country. The vials were inverted 
by an unseen Power, but the channels in which the vengeance 
flowed were the courses already cut by phenomena more or 
less familiar to the people. For instance, the Nile which this 
time, in the beginning of the year, flowed with blood, is apt 
every June to assume a reddish color. Frogs, with gnats, 


MOSES. 


n 


flies and other insect plagues, are to this day no small source 
of misery in Egypt. Boils are of common occurrence among 
the people, and murrain among the cattle, and at certain 
seasons of the year desolating hail-storms sweep over the 
land. 

As to the plague of locusts, let us quote from the traveler 
Lepsius: “I had descended into a mummy-pit, to open some 
newly-discovered sarcophagi, and was not a little astonished 
to find myself in a regular snow-drift of locusts, which almost 
darkening the heavens, flew over our heads from the desert 
in hundreds of thousands to the valley. I took it for a single 
flight, and called my companions from the tombs, that they 
might see this Egyptian wonder ere it was over. But the 
flight continued. The whole region, far and near, was covered 
with locusts. I sent an attendant into the desert to discover 
the breadth of the swarm. He ran for the space of a quarter 
of an hour, then returned and told us that as far as he could 
see, there was no end to them. I rode home in the midst of 
the locust-shower. At the edge of the fruitful plain they 
fell down in showers, and so it went on the whole day till 
the evening, and so the next day from morning to evening, 
and the third; in short, to the sixth day, and in weaker flight 
much longer. The Arabs are now lighting great fires ofi 
smoke in the fields, and clattering and making loud noises all 
day long, to preserve their crops from the unexpected inva¬ 
sion. It will, however, do little good. Like a new animated 
vegetation, these millions of winged spoilers cover even the 
neighboring sandhills, so that scarcely anything is to be seen 
of the ground; and when they rise from one place, they im¬ 
mediately fall down somewhere in'the neighborhood; they 
are tired with their long journey, and seem to have lost all 
fear of their natural enemies, men, animals, smoke and noise, 
in their furious wish to fill their stomachs, and in the feeling 
of their immense number. The most wonderful thing, in my 
estimation, is their flight over the naked wilderness, and the 


72 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


instinct which has guided them from some oasis, oyer the 
inhospitable desert, to the fat soil of the Nile vale.” 

To this land of locusts and hail-storms, of epidemic boils 
and disastrous murrain, the warnings of Moses were abund¬ 
antly intelligible. They were not threatened with an unknown 
visitation, but were in a like predicament to our own land 
if in one short year we were forewarned of nine such plagues 
as a frost in June, the Hessian fly, the rinderpest and the 
cholera. When they were foretold, we could have no diffi¬ 
culty in understanding what was threatened, and when they 
came on the predicted day, and went away (such as could go 
away) at the time appointed, we should have no difficulty in 
identifying them as God’s own messengers. 

While, however, the plagues were of a kind to demonstrate 
conclusively the superiority of Jehovah and His commissioned 
messengers over the idols and their ministers, they were so 
conducted as to leave Pharaoh a free agent. He was not put 
on the actual rack or held over a slow fire till his cruel hand 
relaxed and let the Hebrew bondmen go. Each plague was 
followed by a lull, a respite, and in that reprieve “the heart of 
Pharaoh was hardened.” Except on the last occasion, when 
the Israelites stood marshaled and ready to move off amidst 
the amazement and anguish consequent on the death of the 
first-born—except on that last occasion the Israelites were 
never ready to take Pharaoh at his word; but if he made 
some small concession over night, he was able to recall it in 
the morning. And who will deny that he was strongly tempted ? 
It was no small sacrifice to let his vassals go, to create a gap 
so instantaneous and so wide in the industry of his kingdom, 
to part with the bone and sinew of his realm. They were 
very profitable to him. He had their labor for nothing. To 
let them go would be to confess his own weakness. They 
gratified his lust of power, his ambition, his pride, his love 
of oppression and injustice. He wished to have his own 
way in the matter. His was a proud and imperious will, 


MOSES. 


73 


unused to bend and yield. It was a controversy between 
God and him for the mastery. To let them go would be not 
only a serious loss, but a great humiliation. To have that 
son of a slave glorying over him; to receive the dictation of 
that runagate; to let Apis and Osiris bow before the He¬ 
brews’ god; oh! how could he submit to this, and what 
would Nimrod and his Ethiopian neighbors say ? And so, 
as often as he was reproved, Pharaoh still hardened 
his neck, until suddenly he was cut off, and that without 
remedy. 

Nine plagues had passed away, and with the ending of the 
last, with the abating of the deluge of darkness, Moses upon 
pain of death was ordered from the presence-chamber of the 
king. For three days the murky inundation had suspended 
all social intercourse and all ordinary occupation. But at last 
the cloud had lifted. On the fourth morning the sun shone 
out so clear, and by the river margin the water-lilies looked 
up into the sky which reflected its unclouded mirror under 
them. No trace remained of the long and pitchy night. The 
river was not ink, the blossoms were not black, and as the 
tramp of footguards echoed in the open court, as barges 
went flashing up the stream, and the gay life of Memphis 
fluttered forth like the phantoms of a dream, the fears 
and vows of the monarch fled away, and to the messenger 
of God the rude rebuff' was given, “ Let me see thy face no 
more.” 

And now Moses is directed to prepare for the last awful 
infliction, the crowning-stroke, which shall compel the king 
to let the oppressed go free. In one night, in one hour, at 
one fell stroke, all the first-born of Egypt are to be cut off, 
11 from the first-born of Pharaoh that sitteth upon his throne, 
even unto the first-born of the maid-servant that is behind 
the mill.” The mind needs to pause to contemplate the 
length, the breadth, the depth, the fullness of this terrible 
doom. 


74 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


This is one of the great matters that cannot be taken in at 
one impression. The mind must dwell on it, must rest on the 
details, must penetrate to the homes and hearts of the Egyp¬ 
tian people, must follow the course of this infliction from the 
throned Pharaoh to the poor bondwoman drudging behind 
the mill. Conceive such a calamity falling upon our own 
land, upon one of our great cities. Human hearts in Mem¬ 
phis were not different from hearts in Boston or Hew York. 
The “ great cry ” which arose at midnight, when every house 
was roused to the dying agonies of its first-born, is the same 
that would be heard to-day in London, were the fell swoop 
of the destroyer to descend upon it. The pride, the hope, 
the joy of every family was taken. It was a woe without 

remedy or alleviation. He 
that is sick may be' restored. 
A body emaciated or ulcer¬ 
ated, maimed or enfeebled, 
may again recover sound¬ 
ness and strength. But 
what kindly process can re¬ 
animate the breathless clay, 
and give back to the arms 
of mourning affection an only son, a first-born, smitten with 
death? Hope, the last refuge and remedy under evil, was 
here cut up by the roots. The blow was struck at midnight, 
when none could see the hand that inflicted it, and most 
were reposing in quiet sleep. Had this sleep been silently 
and insensibly exchanged for the sleep of death, the circum¬ 
stances would not have been so overwhelmingly awful. But 
there was not even this mitigation of the horror. For three 
days and nights the country had been enveloped in thick 
darkness, and none had risen up from their places. How, 
after one intervening day of brightness, they were roused 
from their beds, to render what fruitless aid they could to 
their expiring children, and to mourn over their slain. All 


















MOSES. 


75 


the first-born, ‘from the man in the vigor of manhood, to the 
infant that had just been born, died in that one hour of night. 
The stay, the comfort, the delight of every family was anni¬ 
hilated by a single stroke. 

This plague was so terrible that even at this distance it is 
awful to survey. We may well be shocked by the naked 
announcement that in a single night a whole nation was 
plunged into mourning, every family bewailing its eldest son. 
But we must remember the facts. “Yengeance is mine, 
saith the Lord, I will repay.” There is here a direct but 
mysterious retribution, delayed but sure. The time was 
when by order of this government all the new-born infants 
of Israel were slain by the hand of man, rent pitilessly from 
the mother’s breast, and cast ruthlessly into the waters. And 
this was not the first-born only but all—all that drew the 
breath of life. Toward the Israelites the Egyptians had long 
behaved so cruelly that if suffering could be weighed or 
measured, we might safely aver that Israel’s slow centuries 
of endurance were feebly countervailed by Egypt’s night of 
anguish. Who can tell the protracted misery of a high- 
spirited free-roaming people who had been entrapped into 
sudden slavery ? And what bottle but God’s own could con¬ 
tain the tears of the broken-hearted bondmen, the tears of 
families torn asunder, the tears of hapless mothers en¬ 
treating the stony-hearted ruffians not to hurl into the 
stream the babe snatched from their bosoms, the tears of 
trampled abjects who saw their dearest kindred faint beneath 
their burdens or knocked down by savage overseers, and 
who dared not remonstrate or complain? But all history 
teaches that God does hear the cry of the oppressed, and the 
case before us is only one of a thousand instances which prove 
that no public wrong, and especially no wrong against the 
truth of natural feeling, no savage wrong, ever fails of re¬ 
tribution. The nation which shows no mercy shall have 
no mercy shown to it. In the common course of Providence it 


76 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


is in the nature and course of national sins to draw down 
national judgments. And to the savage breast, in the ordi¬ 
nation of God, arguments are addressed that are suitable and 
convincing. The tiger has grasped your child! ’Tis no use 
to coax or flatter, ’tis only the flaming fagot you thrust into 
his face, which makes him howl and drop his victim in the 
shock of sudden pain. “ Israel is my first-born,” said God, 
“ let Israel my people go.” But the lion only snarled, and 
even blow after blow only made him bite the firmer and make 
the bondage sorer; till an arm of fire gleamed through the 
night, and a “great cry” confessed the burning blow, as the 
victim dropped from his gory jaws, bruised and palpitating, 
but still alive and free. 

It was destined to prove “ a night much to be remembered,” 
the birth-night of Hebrew nationality; and means were 
taken to engraft upon it a lesson of primary importance, and 
a celebration which should never be forgotten. For the 
time every head of a household was exalted into a priest, 
and was directed to take a lamb and keep it up from the 
tenth day of the month till the fourteenth. On the fourteenth, 
in the evening, the lamb was to be slain, and its blood was 
to be sprinkled on the side-posts and lintel of the dwelling: 
“For I will pass through the land of Egypt that night, and 
will smite all the first-born in the land of Egypt, both man 
and beast. And the blood shall be to you for a token upon 
the houses where ye are; and when I see the blood I will 
pass over you, and the plague shall not be upon you to destroy 
you, when I smite the land of Egypt ” 

And now the time had fully come for the sword to fall. 
It was April, and it was the night of the full moon. The 
soft and silvery light fell on the white backs of the African 
mountains far away, and it streamed almost perpendicularly 
on the mighty Pyramids which rose like silent symbols of 
eternity straight into the sky. In the royal streets of Mem¬ 
phis all was silent, and all was silent in the wide green plain 


MOSES. 


n 


around it—so silent tliat if you had taken a quiet stroll by 
the river brink you might have heard the plunge of the 
night-feeding fishes, and the pants of behemoth as he slept 
among the bulrushes. .But although all was so silent, all was 
not locked in slumber. These lowly cottages, they are He¬ 
brew huts, the hovels of slaves, and they have lights still 
burning. Peep through the chink and see what the inmates 
are doing. They are all of them astir; I declare not one of 
them has laid down, and they look like people preparing for 
a journey. On the table are traces of a finished repast, the 
house mother is packing up her kneading trough; with his 
staff in his hand the goodman is ready for the road, and the 
very children are excited and watching. But what’s this red 
mark on the door ? What means this blood on the lintel ? 
Did you hear that cry? ’Tis the moment of midnight, and 
some tragedy is enacted in that Egyptian dwelling, for such 
an unearthly shriek! and it is repeated and re-echoed, as doors 
burst open and frantic women rush into the street; and as 
the houses of priests and physicians are beset, they only shake 
their heads in speechless agony, and point to the death-sealed 
features of their own first-born. Lights are flashing at the 
palace gates, and flitting through the royal chambers; and as 
the king’s messengers hasten through the town inquiring where 
the two venerable Hebrew brothers dwell, the whisper flies, 
“ The prince-royal is dead!” Be off, ye sons of Jacob I Speed 
from the house of bondage, ye oppressed and injured Israelites! 
And in their eagerness to “ thrust forth” the terrible, because 
heaven-protected race, they press upon them gold and jewels, 
and bribe them to be gone. 

It was, indeed, a night to be remembered, for a nation was 
born in that night. During the four hundred years in Egypt, 
Jacob’s family had expanded into a multitude, the three-score 
and fifteen souls had grown to at least two millions. But it 
was a mere inorganic multitude, a horde without a head, with 
no laws or rulers of its own, a helpless, down-trampled tribe, 


*8 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


held together by common hardships, and a common mother- 
tongue. This night, however, they sprang to their feet an 
exceeding great army. In the surprise of their sudden eman¬ 
cipation their mouth was filled with laughter, and their tongue 
with melody. Jehovah had made bare His mighty arm, and 
Pharaoh, crushed and humbled, was entreating them to fly. 
With no king over them but God, with no bonds save those 
of mutual brotherhood, they were now their own masters, and 
moving toward the Promised Land. Ho wonder if the fif¬ 
teenth of Abib, the night of this glorious revolution, the re¬ 
turn of their national independence, the recurrence of the 
exodus, became a joyful anniversary; no wonder if, without 
Divine direction, they had agreed to keep it as a joyful feast 
forever. 

But of such an event the memorial was not left to mere 
chance or good feeling, and we have here the rules laid down 



ANCIENT EGYPTIAN FUNERAL PROCESSION. 


which secured its continued celebration. And we know that 
in point of fact the celebration lasted as long as the Hebrew 
nation had a home, and in some of its features it is still kept 
up by that peculiar people. Everything was done to make 
it a joyful and suggestive jubilee, and if you had lived in the 
days of the Lord Jesus you would have seen it kept somewhat 
after this fashion: First of all the little capital would fill up 
with people from all ends of Palestine—would fill up and 
brim over like a great bee-hive, every house as full as it 
could hold, and thousands lodging anywhere, all bright and 
cheerful, hospitable and open-handed, for the maxim was, 
“This day is holy unto the Lord your God, go your way, eat 











MOSES. 


79 

the fat and drink the sweet; neither he ye sorry; for the 
j oy of the Lord is your strength.” Four days beforehand, 
the father of the family brought home a lamb, gentle and 
beautiful, sure to take the hearts of the children ; but in this 
instance a short-lived favorite, for in four days the lamb 
must die. Then came the day of preparation, with its hunt 
through all the house in search of that leavened bread which 
they were commanded to put away, when every drawer and 
cupboard was opened, and every corner carefully explored 
and if the smallest morsel was found it was brushed into a 
basin and carried out to a bonfire kindled on purpose, and, 
burnt with a prayer for its annihilation. Then came the high 
day, the killing of the passover, followed by the paschal feast, 
a feast with specialties sure to strike the younger spectators. 
Instead of putting off their shoes at the door of the apartment, 
as usual, the guests walked in in their sandals, loins girded 
and staff in hand, and not unfrequently instead of reclining 
they stood around the table, like pilgrims or passers-by, who 
could hardly wait to snatch a hasty morsel. Then on the 
table, beside the all-important lamb, roasted, and with bitter 
herbs sprinkled over it, stood one great goblet of wine; and 
for bread, instead of the ordinary loaves, were thin airy cakes 
of the finest, whitest flour, and a solid cake of figs and almonds, 
shaped like a brick, and with cinnamon strewed over it in 
imitation of straw. Whilst the feast was going on, at a sig¬ 
nal from his mother, the youngest child in the party asked, 
“ What mean ye by this service ?” and then the grandfather 
or oldest guest made answer: “ Long ago our fathers lived 
in Egypt, and the Egyptians made them slaves. The Egyp¬ 
tians used them very cruelly and our fathers cried to God. 
God said to the king of Egypt, ‘ Let my people Israel go 
but the heart of the king was very hard, and for all the 
plagues which God sent on Egypt the king would not let 
Israel go. At last God said to our fathers, ‘Take every 
family of you a lamb, and kill it to-night, and sprinkle its 


80 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


blood upon your door, and stand ready to start, for this night 
Egypt will be glad when you go.’ And that night into all 
except the blood-sprinkled houses went the angel of death, and 
smote the first-born, whilst h q passed over our fathers, and carried 
them out of that house of bondage to this goodly land. So we, 
the sons of Israel, come together to keep the great feast of 
the Hebrew family. We eat the unleavened bread and the 
lamb with bitter herbs, as our fathers ate that night. This 
day is holy unto the Lord, and as we keep our joyful feast 
we sing the Great Hallel.” 

We have said that at the exodus the children of Israel 
numbered at least two millions. The computation is made 
in this way. There were 600,000 men fit to bear arms. 
Now it is known that the number of males too young and 
too old for military service is at least equal to that of efficient 
men. This raises the number to 1,200,000 males of all ages; 
and then this number is to be doubled to include the females, 
making the whole amount to 2,400,000, or we may safely say 
two millions and a half, especially if we take account of “ the 
mixed multitude,” who we are told went out with the 
Israelites. These we take to have been native Egyptian 
vagrants, and convicts, and foreign captives, whom commu¬ 
nity of suffering had brought into contact with the Israelites, 
and who with or without their consent quitted the country 
along with them. These were like the camp-followers of an 
army; which in the case of an Eastern army are often as 
numerous as the soldiers themselves. Their number is not 
calculable like that of the Hebrews, but it is safe to estimate 
that they raised the whole number to near three millions. 
The collecting together of so immense a multitude, the ar¬ 
ranging of the order of their march, the provisioning of them 
even for a few days, much more for forty years, must have 
been utterly impossible, unless a special and overruling Provi¬ 
dence had interfered to obviate the difficulties of the case. 
Conceive an emigration embracing all the inhabitants of one 


MOSES. 


81 


of the most populous States of our Union, New York or 
Pennsylvania, and you will be able to form some idea of the 
exodus of the Hebrew nation from Egypt—in itself a wonder 
hardly second to any wrought by Divine power in effecting 
the deliverance of the Israelites from Pharaoh. 

In the campaigns of Alexander the Great, we are told 
that over his tent he caused a lofty pole to be set up, and on 
its summit was a brazier filled with combustible materials 
kept constantly burning. In this way, if any one wanted to 
find the commander’s head-quarters he could never be at 
any loss, for over them floated the cloudy banner by day, the 
flaming beacon by night. Such to the Israelites, during their 
desert journey, was their aerial pillar. When, on the night 
of their departure, they reached the appointed rendezvous at 
Succoth, unorganized and unaccustomed to martial move¬ 
ments, they might soon have found themselves a helpless 
mass, a weltering crowd huddled together as sheep without 
a shepherd, had they not espied betimes a banner in the sky, 
the standard of their unseen leader, and gathered reassurance 
from the saving sign. There was sure guidance in its goings, 
a pledge of safety in its presence; by day a welcome awning 
in its shadow, and by night an illumination no less welcome 
in its forth-flowing effulgence. 

“ When Israel, of the Lord beloved, 

Out from the land of bondage came, 

Their fathers’ God before them moved, 

An awful guide, in cloud and flame 1 

“ By day, along the astonished lands, 

The cloudy pillar glided slow; 

By night, Arabia’s crimsoned sands 
Returned the fiery column’s glow.” 1 

A waving pennant by day and a torch by night, that pillar 
was Israel’s pioneer. When the cloud journeyed, they jour¬ 
neyed ; and when the cloud rested, they rested. It was Israel’s 
protector. When Pharaoh gave chase, the cloudy pillar 

lRebecca’s hymn in Ivanhoe. 

6 



82 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


passed from the front of the camp to the rear, and became to 
the one a lamp, and to the other a “ horror of thick darkness,” 
so that the Egyptians could not get near the Israelites all the 
night. The Hebrew host was now hemmed in by the Eed 
Sea. At the command of God, Moses lifted up his rod upon 
the waters, and forthwith a strong east wind began to blow, 
dividing the waters, and making a pathway through the deep. 
-Encouraged by the light which they enjoyed, and by the 
'marvelous interposition in their favor, the Israelites ventured 
■into the channel thus opened, and began their march to the 
-other side, the waters being a wall to them on the right 
lhand and on the left. 



MODERN FUNERAL PROCESSION. 

It was not until the morning, when the rear of the Israelites 
had nearly reached the other side, that the Egyptians became 
aware of what had taken place. Advancing then, and find¬ 
ing the camp of Israel deserted, they hurried on by the road 
which they had evidently taken. It is not clear that they 
knew or thought they were following the Israelites into the 
v bed of the sea. Considering the darkness, far denser than 
that of night alone, which had come between the pursuers 
and the pursued, it is not probable that they had any clear 
perception of the course in which they were moving, and 
least of all that they were traveling in the bared bed of the 
divided waters. They could hear the noise of the flying 
host before them, and could see confusedly a little way about 





MOSES. 


83 


their feet, but in all likelihood they were little able to dis¬ 
tinguish the localities around them, and may even have 
thought that they were pursuing the Israelites up the Valley 
of Bedea, and pressing them back to Egypt. But by the 
time day broke they became aware of their position. They 
were already far advanced on the miraculous road; and the 
east wind ceasing toward morning, the waters piled up by its 
agency began to return. But the bottom, along which they 
were marching, had become deep and miry by the previous 
march of the people and cattle of the Israelites; and finding 
a heavy sea returning on them from the west, the king’s 
army thought it high time to retreat. But it was too late. 
They were embarrassed by the state of the ground, and before 
they could extricate themselves from their dangerous posi¬ 
tion, the waters returned and covered them all, consummating 
by one fearful stroke the deliverance of Israel and the over¬ 
throw of the Egyptians. 

Every nation has some one prominent point of history which 
it regards with more habitual attention, and allusions to which 
occur more frequently than to any other in the songs of poets 
and the glowing words of orators; and to the Hebrews, the 
passage of the Red Sea, and the overthrow of Pharaoh and 
his splendid host, was this one point of fixed regard, referred 
to in all the subsequent literature of the people, and especially 
in the Psalms of David. And at the time of their deliverance 
Moses composed a thanksgiving ode, which the ten thousands 
of Israel united in singing, as they exulted in their new-born 
freedom on the shores of the Red Sea. In this noble piece 
of poetry, full of sublime thoughts, breathing deeply pious 
and grateful feeling, and replete with enlarged views of the 
consequences that might be expected to result from this glo¬ 
rious deliverance, we have an expression of the mind of the 
Hebrew public on this great occasion. As the ode was adapted 
for alternate recitation, not only did the men of Israel shout 
forth their joy in sacred strains, but the women also, led on 


84 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


by Miriam, and accompanying tbeir voices with the sound of 
the timbrel and the motions of the dance, swelled tbe cborus 
of thanksgiving, and re-echoed to the skies the bold refrain, 
“Sing unto the Lord, for He hath triumphed gloriously; the 
horse and his rider hath He cast into the sea.” Where, in all 
history, do we find a great national deliverance so appropriately 
acknowledged? Let this public action be tested by the high¬ 
est standard in regard to elevated religious devotion, striking 
intellectual dignity, eloquent and cultivated diction, and tell 
us what great public act in the best ages of Greece and Eome 
will bear comparison with this grateful conduct of the re¬ 
deemed Israelites ? 

The dividing of the sea has been commemorated in vivid 
verse by a favorite sacred poet, Bishop Heber: 

“ He comes, their leader comes ! the man of God 
O’er the wide waters lifts his mighty rod, 

And onward treads; the circling waves retreat, 

In hoarse, deep murmurs from his holy feet; 

And the chased surges, inly roaring, show 
The hard, wet sand, and coral hills below. 

With limbs that falter, and with hearts that swell, 

Down, down they pass, a steep and slippery dell; 

Around them rise, in pristine chaos hurled, 

The ancient rocks, the secrets of the world ; 

And flowers that blush beneath the ocean green, 

And caves, the sea-calves’ low-roofed haunt, are seen. 

Down, safely down the narrow pass they tread; 

The beetling waters storm above their head: 

While far behind retires the sinking day, 

And fades on Edom’s hills its latest ray.” 

A great word was that which Moses gave by command of 
God to Israel; “ Speak unto the children of Israel that they 
go forward.” There they were, a sea before them far wider 
than their familiar Nile, and with the wild tumult of its 
waters very terrible; a sea before them, and on their rear, 
with his jingling chargers and his sounding chariots, 
an angry, ruthless king. Unarmed and unused to conflict, 





























































































































































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MOSES. 


85 


to face round and fight was for a flock of sheep to charge a 
pack of wolves or lions, and across that gulf they had neither 
wings to fly nor boats to ferry; but although still invisible, 
it was across that gulf that the path of the ransomed stretched,, 
and from God’s “Forward,” the veiling waters fled away, and 
revealed the road which no created eye had seen till then. 
Let us learn a lesson. Dark may be the night, bitter the 
storm, wide the sea before us, but if we hear the voice of God 
saying, “ This is the way, walk ye in it,” we may go forward 
fearing no evil. We can be placed in no circumstances where 
God will not be our guide and deliverer. The elements are 
His, and the stormier passions of men are under His control, 
too, and though our path lie through the waters, the winds 
shall do His bidding, and the sea become a wall for us on the 
right hand and on the left. 

But no voice from heaven had bidden Pharaoh and his 
host go forward, and the same gulf which opened a trium¬ 
phal path to Israel closed over the Egyptians and whelmed 
them in a watery grave, fulfilling the word of the Lord by 
Moses, “ The Eyptians whom ye have seen to-day, ye shall 
see them no more forever.” And in the progress of our 
narrative we shall see Pharaoh no more—a character which 
after the manner of Cain and Herod, stands up from the 
sacred page awful and ominous, a seared and blasted peak 
without any redeeming verdure, and visited by no shower of 
blessing. A hard man, God left him to himself, so that he 
grew harder still. Proud, imperious, selfish, like the second 
James of England, at once a bigot and a despot, he got 
gradually committed to the unequal strife, and by a succes¬ 
sion of steps as false as they were natural, was hurried forward 
to the fatal issue. 

And now the Israelites, under the Divine direction, take 
their course toward Horeb. Marching three days without 
finding any water, they began to suffer fearfully from thirst. 
Let us not think lightly of their distress. Thirst is a cruel 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


thing. It is known to be such even in a humid clime, where 
the sensation is rarely and lightly experienced, and is very 
easily removed. But amid the hot sandy waste, under a 
burning sky, without any means of relief, the suffering is 
horrible. There is nothing like it. The sensation we call 
thirst is no more like the mad and raging fever of the desert, 
than our cool and verdant valleys are like the baked and 
blistering rocks of that burning wilderness. If we reflect, 
we see that this vast host of men, women and children, with 
numerous herds of cattle, had to travel over the sandy waste 
mostly on foot, with the burning sun over their heads, and 
we may form some faint idea of their condition. And if we 
look the individuals in the face, the unmistakable signs of 
suffering and misery enable us more distinctly to apprehend 
their wretched condition. They plod moodily and heavily 
on, no man speaking to his fellow. Many cannot speak if 
they would. Their tongues are parched and rough, and cling 
to the roofs of their mouths ; their lips are black and shriveled, 
and their eyeballs are red with heat; and sometimes comes 
over them a dimness which makes them stagger with faint¬ 
ness. There is not one in all that multitude who probably 
would not have given all he possessed in,the world, who 
would not have parted with a limb, or given up his life, for 
one cool draught of water. And this was suffered by a peo¬ 
ple who had been used to drink without stint of the finest 
water in the world. 

But lo, their misery they think is past. In the distance 
they behold trees and bushes clad in refreshing green, and 
they know there must be water near. With glad looks and 
quickened steps they push joyously on. What a rush to the 
water, what eagerness to gulp the refreshing flood ! Whence 
that universal groan, and horror, and despair ? The water is 
bitter , so bitter as to be loathsome even to their intense agony 
of thirst. Pity them ; but judge them not too severely, if 
in that awful moment of disappointment, with the waters of 


MOSES. 


s: 


Marah before their faces, and the waters of the Nile before 
their thoughts, they murmured and complained that they 
had been brought from unfailing waters to perish in that 
thirsty desolation. True, they should have trusted in God. 
They had been rescued from more imminent danger ; and it 
was no arm of flesh, but the sacred pillar of cloud, which had 
indicated their way and brought them to that place. The 
Bed Sea minstrels should not so soon have become mutineers 
and murmurers. But in consideration of their sufferings 
God readily excused them. It will be seen in the sacred 
record, that He dealt tenderly with them. He did not, as on 
other occasions when they 
sinned in like manner with¬ 
out like excuse, reprove 
them; but when Moses cried 
to Him for help, He, in the 
tenderness of His great pity, 
healed the waters, and made 
them Sweet and salutary. bronze Egyptian cald'ron. 

Tried with thirst, the chosen people were next tried with 
hunger. A military man, who has witnessed the difficulty 
of providing a regular supply of victuals, even in a peopled 
country, for a large body of men, whether by purchase or 
enforced contribution, can appreciate the faith required of 
Moses when he undertook to lead into “the waste howling 
wilderness,” where no provisions existed or could be obtained 
by force or purchase, a people whose numbers exceeded by 
three-fold the largest army which the ambition or pride of 
man ever brought together. But his faith was vindicated by 
the result. A month after leaving Egypt, the provisions 
which the Israelites had brought with them were exhausted. 
And now the cry went up: “Ye have brought us forth into 
this wilderness to kill us with hunger.” They desired bread 
and meat, and a miraculous supply of both was promised to 
them; not without a mild reproof for their murmurings and 






88 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


distrust, which Moses told them, though ostensibly leveled 
at himself and brother, were really directed against the Lord. 

The promised flesh came in the shape of a vast flock of quails, 
which being wearied probably with a long flight, flew so low 
that they were easily taken in immense numbers by the hand. 
It was necessary to preserve them for future use. The Israelites 
knew how that was to be accomplished. The Egyptians 
lived much upon wild fowl, which they preserved by drying 
them in the sun, and perhaps slightly salting them; and in 
the Egyptian monuments there are representations of birds, 
slit like fish, and laid out to dry. At the present day, in 
Lower Egypt, great numbers of birds are caught and rudely 
but efficiently preserved. The manner of doing it now is to 
strip off the feathers with the skin, and then bury them in 
the hot saud, till the moisture is absorbed, and the flesh thus 
preserved from corruption. One of these modes was followed 
by the Israelites. On a later occasion, it is said: “ They 
spread them all abroad for themselves around the camp.” 
Numbers xi. 82. 

The next morning after the flight of quails, the face of the 
ground around the camp was seen to be covered with “ a 
small round thing as small as the hoar-frost.” To this the 
name of manna was given. The Most High in feeding His 
famished children with supplies straight from His own store¬ 
house, selected a substance congruous to the place, and in 
keeping with their circumstances. As quails were abundant 
in the wilderness, and the miracle was only in their coming 
at the appointed time, and passing directly over the Hebrew 
camp, and flying so low as to be easily taken ; so the miracle 
of the manna consisted in taking a palatable product of the 
place, and multiplying it a million-fold, that the supply 
might be adequate to the number and wants of the pen¬ 
sioners at heaven’s gate. In the peninsula of Sinai there is 
still found in the midsummer months a substance called 
manna. It is a sweet gummy exudation from the tarfah or 


MOSES. 


89 


tamarisk, and other plants, produced by the puncture of an 
insect; and it is either scraped from the leaves, or gathered 
up where its drops have trickled down to the ground. Now, 
God did not cause such rice crops to spring up in the bare 
and burning desert, as His people had been accustomed to see 
in the deep inundated soil of Egypt; nor did He perplex 
them by raining all around them the ready-made loaves, the 
bread-fruits of the then unknown isles of the Pacific; but 
selecting a nutritious and indigenous product, he fed them 
with what was indeed bread from heaven, though made after 
the similitude of a sample that was before them. Just as the 
Lord Jesus, when about to feed five thousand hungry guests, 
did not fling away the five loaves which were actually forth¬ 
coming, but used them as the starting-point or key-note of 
His miracle—so Jehovah, when about to feed His million 
guests for forty years, did not ignore the handful of meal 
already in the barrel, the few drops which already trickled 
from the tarfah trees, but multiplying the supply a hundred 
thousand-fold, instead of a mere taste of honey-dew, instead 
of a few tiny and tantalizing particles, with Divine profusion 
"He emptied a whole garner over them every night, and scat¬ 
tered it round their tents thick as snow on Salmon. 

One day’s journey short of Sinai, the Israelites came to 
Rephidim. Here they again wanted water. Their murmur- 
ings were more violent, and their conduct more outrageous 
than at Marah. They had lately seen their wants relieved in 
a similar emergency, and at this very time they were receiv¬ 
ing, day by day, their bread from heaven. Yet so unreason¬ 
able was their spirit that they reproached Moses for having 
brought them out of Egypt to kill them and their children 
with thirst; and their violence of manner was such as led 
Moses to cry unto the Lord, saying: “ What shall I do unto 
this people ? They be almost ready to stone me.” Thus 
soon did they justify the reluctance with which he had 
abandoned the quiet life he loved so well, to assume the lead- 


90 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


ership of this discontented and turbulent people. The Lord 
directed Moses what to do. The people were to remain in 
the camp. He, with the elders as witnesses, was to proceed 
to Horeb. There he was to smite a rock, from which a 
copious stream of waters should flow out, to furnish the peo¬ 
ple with drink. Tradition points out the rock which Moses 
smote. It is an isolated mass of granite, nearly twenty feet 
square and high, with its base concealed in the earth. In the 
face of the rock are a number of horizontal fissures, at un¬ 
equal distances from each other; some near the top, and 
others at a little distance from the surface of the ground. 
Dr. Olin, an American clergyman, says: “The color and 
whole appearance of the rock are such that (leaving out of 
view the traditions) no one can hesitate to believe that they 
have been produced by water flowing from these fissures. I 
think it would be extremely difficult to form these fissures 
or produce these appearances by art. It is not less difficult 
to believe that a natural fountain should flow at the height 
of a dozen feet out of the face of an isolated rock.” 

And so Rev. Dr. Durbin, after stating that he was skeptical 
as to the truth of the tradition before visiting the spot, writes : 
“ Had any enlightened geologist, utterly ignorant of the 
miracle of Moses, passed up this ravine, and seen the rock as 
it now is, he would have declared that strong and long-continued 
fountains of water had once poured their gurgling currents 
from it and over it. Neither art nor chance could by any 
means be concerned in the contrivance of these holes, which 
formed so many fountains. The more I gazed upon the 
irregular mouth-like chasms in the rock, the more I found 
my skepticism shaken; and at last I could not help asking 
myself: Is not this indeed the very rock which Moses struck, 
and from which the waters gushed forth and poured their 
streams down the valleys to Rephidim, where Israel was en¬ 
camped and perishing with thirst?” We may add that this 
place bears such a relation to the Sinai tic valleys, that the 


MOSES. 


91 


water flowing from the rock could be made to supply the 
Israelites during a considerable portion of their journeyings 
in the desert, agreeing with the words of Paul when he says 
“ they drank of the rock which followed them,” that is fol¬ 
lowed them in the sense of being the source of the stream 
which followed them. 

One more stage and Sinai 
was reached. It is well to 
remark here that Horeb 
and Sinai are used converti- 
bly or interchangeably in 
the Pentateuch, to denote 
the mountain on which the 
Law was given. Perhaps 
one is the general name for 
the whole cluster or central 
group of the Sinai Moun¬ 
tains, and the other desig¬ 
nates the particular summit 
where the Law was deliver¬ 
ed. Moses doubtless, dur¬ 
ing the forty years in which 
he kept the flocks of Jethro, 
had often wandered over 
these mountains, and was 
well acquainted with their 
valleys and deep recesses. 

Here in the midst of the 
great circular granite region, 
embosomed among dark 
cliffs, a fine plain spreads out with the mountain impending 
over it—a secret holy place with only a single feasible en¬ 
trance, shut out from the world amid lone and desolate 
mountains. 

Let us read the first impressions of some of those who have 



EGYPTIAN DANCES. 









92 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


penetrated tliis labyrinth of dry valleys and desolate moun¬ 
tains, and reached the very spot where the ten words were 
spoken, which afterward graven on stone by God’s own finger, 
are still recognized by Christian, Jew and Moslem as the 
basis of all morals and of all religion. And first, the Ameri¬ 
can traveler, Dr. Robinson, writes : “ As we advanced, the 
valley still opened wider and wider, with a gentle ascent, and 
became fall of shrubs and tufts of herbs, shut in on each side 
by lofty granite ridges, with rugged, shattered peaks a thou¬ 
sand feet high, while the face of Horeb rose dark and frown¬ 
ing before us. Both my companion and myself involuntarily 
exclaimed: 1 Here is room enough for a large encampment.’ 
Reaching the top of the ascent or water-shed, a fine, broad 
plain lay before us, gently sloping toward the south-east, en¬ 
closed by rugged and venerable mountains of dark granite 
—stern, naked, splintered peaks and ridges of indescribable 
grandeur, and terminated at the distance of more than a mile 
by the bold and awful front of Horeb, rising perpendicularly 
in frowning majesty from twelve to fifteen hundred feet in 
height. It was a scene of solemn grandeur, such as we had 
never seen, and the associations which at the moment rushed 
upon our minds were almost overwhelming. Still advancing, 
the front of Horeb rose before us like a wall, smooth and 
precipitous, and one can approach quite to the foot and touch 
the mountain. On one of these cliffs the Lord descended in 
fire and proclaimed the Law. Here is the plain where the 
whole congregation were assembled; there is the mount that 
could be approached and touched if not forbidden; there the 
mountain brow where the lightnings and thick cloud were 
visible, and the thunders and the voice of the trump were 
heard, when the Lord came down in the sight of all the people 
upon Mount Sinai.” 

Dr. Durbin thus describes the approach to Sinai: “ Emerg¬ 
ing from the pass, and ascending gradually, gloomy, precipi¬ 
tous mountain masses rose to view on either hand. The 


MOSES. 


93 


caravan moved slowly, and apparently with a more solemn, 
. measured tread; the Bedouins became more serious and 
silent, and looked steadily before them, as if to catch the 
first glimpse of some revered object. The space before us 
gradually expanded, when suddenly our guide, pointing to a 
black perpendicular cliff, whose two riven and rugged sum¬ 
mits rose some fifteen hundred feet directly in front of us, 
exclaimed, Jebel Musa , Mount of Moses I How shall I describe 
the effect of that announcement ? Hot a word was spoken 
by Moslem or Christian ; but slowly and silently we advanced 
into the still-expanding plain, our eyes immovably fixed on 
the frowning precipices of the stern and desolate mountain. 
We were on the plain where Israel encamped at the giving 
of the Law, and that grand and gloomy height before us was 
Sinai, on which God descended in fire, and the mountain was 
enveloped in smoke, and shook under the tread of the 
Almighty, while His presence was proclaimed by the long, 
loud peals of repeated thunder, above which the blast of the 
trumpet was heard waxing louder, and reverberating amid 
the stern and gloomy heights around, and then God spake 
with Moses, and all the people removed and stood afar off, 
and trembled when they saw the thunderings and lightnings 
and thick darkness where God was, and said unto Moses: 
Speak thou with us ; but let not God speak with us, lest we 
die. We all seemed to ourselves to be present at this terrible 
scene, and would have marched directly up to the Mount of 
God, had not the guide recalled us to ourselves, by pointing 
to the convent far up in the deep ravine.” 

We may take another description from the author of Forty 
Days in the Desert: “ Catching, as we mounted higher and 
higher, the still freshening breeze from the cool regions 
above, we felt equal to anything. The narow valley widened 
gradually into a high, dreary undulating plain, hemmed in 
by still drearier mountains, which upreared their dark, shat¬ 
tered, thunder-stricken peaks higher and higher on each side 


94 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


as we advanced ; while right before ns, closing np the plain, 
and shutting it in, towered sheer from its level, an awful 
range of precipices, which seemed to bar our further progress 
through this region of desolate sublimity. As we still 
advanced, a narrow glen opened up between them, running 
deeper into the heart of the solitude, and at some distance up 
this, half lost between walls and naked rock, peeped out the 
high wall of the convent, and the dark verdure of its garden, 
looking, as some one has well described it, like the end of the 
world.” 

No one who has not seen them, can conceive the rugged¬ 
ness of these vast piles of granite rocks, rent into chasms, 
rounded into small summits, or splintered into countless 
peaks, all in the wildest confusion, as they appear to the eye 
of an observer from any of the heights. W e may imagine 
what a strange and solemn region it would be to Israel— 
come away from the Nile, broad and overbrimming, to these 
ravines, down which nothing flowed but rivers of hot air; 
from the loud streets and stirring lanes of Goshen and Mem¬ 
phis to that listening silence which seemed to await the voice 
of the Eternal, and these lofty peaks which, relieved by no 
verdure, and interrupted by no life, carried the eye that 
rested on them straight up to heaven. If it be the perfection 
of a place of worship to have nothing to distract the mind, 
there could be nothing more stern and still than this inland 
solitude, with its granite pinnacles soaring up nine thousand 
feet into the firmament—an Alpine skeleton, a Tyrol or Savoy, 
with its forests and its snows torn off, and its lakes dried up— 
the ruins of a world. 

So awful was the sanctuary, so sublime the pulpit to 
which Jehovah led His people, that they might hear His 
memorable sermon and receive the statute-book of heaven. 
Fifty days had passed since that night so memorable when 
the fiery pillar gave the sign and showed the path to the 
marching millions ; and now conducted into the very depths 


MOSES. 


95 


of the desert, and prepared by such miracles as the manna 
and the smitten rock, the people were ready to receive the 
first and, in its accompaniments, the most stupendous of all 
the revelations to be made through them to man. When the 
Ten Commandments were spoken, Moses was on the plain and 
on a level with the rest of the congregation. And although 
they were afterward consigned to stone tablets, so terrible 
was the voice of the Eternal, so like to dissolve their quak¬ 
ing frames as thrill after thrill it cut and hewed the fleshly 
tables of their hearts, that they said to Moses: “ Speak thou 
with us, and we will hear; but let not God speak with us, 
lest we die.” Both as spoken by God’s own voice, and as 
written on the rock by God’s own finger, these commands 
stand forth alone, their supreme importance sufficiently 
betokened by their prominence in the forefront of all the 
rest, and by their promulgation so directly and entirely 
Divine. 

Then the Decalogue is marked by wonderful simplicity and 
brevity. The second, third and fourth commandments go 
into some detail, but like the rest each of them can easily be 
condensed into a single sentence; so that they well merit the 
old Talmudic name, The Ten Words—words so plain that 
he who runs may read, so portable that he who forgets every¬ 
thing besides, may easily remember them. And they are as 
comprehensive as they are brief and authoritative. The 
first table is religious, and the second is moral. The first 
table fixes the right object of worship, the one supreme, self- 
existent Jehovah—the right mode, direct and without the 
intervention of images—the right spirit, reverently and with 
godly fear. The second or ethical table is the protector of 
life, of person, of property, of character; and as the rest 
sufficiently cover the outward conduct, the series closes with 
one which reaches the thought and intents of the heart: 
Thou shalt not covet. 

A wonderful code! and a wonderful occasion! And it 


96 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


is impossible to calculate the impressions and impulses which 
date from that hour of awe and wonder. A sensation as of 
Sinai is in the heart of Israel still; and it has been a great 
thing for the world that through all these three thousand 
years there has existed in the midst of the nations, amidst 
pagan polytheism and papal idolatry, a race of monotheists 
and spiritual worshipers, a race witnessing for the unity 
and inconceivable majesty of the Most High. And during 
these long ages, philosophers and divines have been studying 
morals,the duties men owe to God and to each other,the laws that 
bind society and hold its parts together; but they who have 
added a thousand truths to science and a thousand inventions to 
art, have not discovered any duties which were overlooked in 
the code of morals which Moses received upon Sinai. By Divine 
authority he established in Israel a form of government and 
a code of laws which neither time nor experience has been 
able to improve. Like the goddess fabled to have sprung 
full-grown and full-armed, from the head of Jupiter, or like 
those who never hung on mother’s breast, the man and woman 
whom Eden received to its blissful bowers, this system was 
mature and perfect from the beginning. What a man was 
he who, in that rude and early age, inculcated laws that have 
formed, through all succeeding ages, the highest standard of 
morality! Since his long-distant day, men have run to and 
fro, and knowledge has been increased; the boundaries of 
science have been vastly extended, but not those of morality; 
nor has one new duty been added to those of the two tables 
he brought down from Sinai. Adapted to all ages, circum¬ 
stances and countries, time has neither altered nor added to 
the Ten Commandments. They remain the ten stones of 
the arch on which our domestic happiness, the purity of so¬ 
ciety, the security of life and property, and the prosperity of 
nations alike stand. At Sinai the rules of eternal righteous¬ 
ness, which had been lying about the world, tossing along 
from age to age, vague, amorphous and unauthoritative, were 


MOSES. 


97 


handed forth from heaven anew; and clear beyond cavil, 
sufficiently compact for the smallest memory, and comprehen¬ 
sible by the feeblest understanding, they became to mankind 
a statute-book forever, a statute-book direct from the presence 
of Infinite Majesty, and in the solemnities by which it was 
sanctioned, suggestive of that awful tribunal when it will 
reappear as the law by which the righteous Judge shall ren¬ 
der to every man according to his deeds. 

The Decalogue is the first statute-book which abolished 
idolatry and polytheism. “ No God but Me,” says the first 
commandment; li No likeness or image,” says the second; 
and in thus learning the unity and spirituality of the Divine 



PAPYRUS BOAT. 


nature, Israel was at once put in advance of the rest of the 
world by at least fifteen hundred years. In the most impor¬ 
tant of all knowledge, the little Samuel who could repeat 
these two commandments was wiser than Socrates or Cicero 
adoring a statue. He was wiser than Homer or Hesiod 
with his lords many and gods many; he was wiser than 
Confucius or Lucretius without a god at all. 

Another peculiarity of this statute-book is its consecration 
of one day in seven to the service of Jehovah. For the wis¬ 
dom of this we quote only the testimony of Humboldt. He 
says: “ The selection of the seventh day is certainly the 
wisest that could have been made. To some extent it may 
7 * 










98 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


be optional to shorten or lengthen labor on other days, but 
in regard to men’s physical power, and for perseverance in a 
monotonous employment, I am convinced that six days is 
just the true measure. There is likewise something humane 
in this, that the beasts which aid man in his labor share the 
rest. To lengthen the interval would be as inhuman as foolish. 
When, in the time of the Revolution, I spent several days in 
Paris, I saw this institution, despite its Divine origin, super¬ 
seded by the dry and wooden decimal system. Only the 
tenth day was a day of rest, and all customary work was 
continued for nine long days. This being evidently too long, 
Sunday was kept by some as far as the police permitted, and 
the result was too much idleness.” 

Space fails for reference to other salient points of this 
Divine system. A modern jurist, a Frenchman and an infidel, 
observes, “Good right had Moses to challenge his Israelites, 
.And what nation hath statutes like yours ? a worship so ex¬ 
alted, laws so equitable, a code so complete ? Compared 
with all the legislations of antiquity, none so thoroughly em¬ 
bodies the principles of everlasting and universal righteous¬ 
ness. Lycurgus wrote not for a people but for an army; it 
was a barrack which he erected, not a commonwealth; and 
sacrificing everything to the military spirit, he mutilated hu¬ 
man nature in order to crush it into armor. Solon, on the 
contrary, could not resist the effeminate and relaxing influ¬ 
ences of his Athens. It is in Moses alone that we find a re¬ 
gard for the right, austere and incorruptible; a morality dis¬ 
tinct from policy, and rising above regard for times and peo¬ 
ples. The trumpet of Sinai still finds an echo in the conscience 
of mankind; the Decalogue still binds us all.” 

But as a legislator, besides moral , Moses established criminal 
and civil laws, which, unless in so far as they were specially 
adapted to the circumstances of the Israelites, our law-makers 
and magistrates would do well to copy. Inspired with the 
profoundest wisdom, they are patterns to all ages of equity 


MOSES. 


99 


and justice. For instance, how much kinder to the poor, and 
less burdensome to the community, are what may be called 
the “poor laws” of Moses, than any corresponding legislation 
of our own land ? How much more wise than ours the laws 
that dealt with theft—thus far, that requiring the thief to 
restore four-fold the value of what he had stolen, and work 
till he had done so, they assigned to that crime a punishment 
which at once secured reparation to the plundered, and the 
reformation of the plunderer. Nor less wise were those sani¬ 
tary laws, of which though long neglected, late years and 
bitter experience have |jeen teaching us the importance. It 
is only now, with all our boasted progress in arts and science, 
that we are awaking to the value of such regulations, as 
securing cleanliness in the habits and in the homes of the 
people, promote their health and preserve their lives. An¬ 
ticipating the discoveries of the nineteenth century and the 
plans of our modern sanitary reformers, Moses was four 
thousand years ahead of his age. 

Judged therefore either by the civil or criminal code he 
enjoined, or by those Ten Commandments which lie at the 
foundations of all human justice, and shall continue the 
supreme standard of morals so long as time endures, Moses 
claims precedence over all the sovereigns, and senators and 
legislators the world has ever seen. Like a magnificent Alp, 
whose green skirts are the nest of a nation, and whose top 
white and glistening, if terrestrial at all is something trans¬ 
figured, our law-giver stands up in the horizon of history, not 
proud, but pre-eminent, a halo around his head, and an eman¬ 
cipated people at his feet, claiming to himself no credit, but 
rejoicing in their happiness, and pointing to that high source 
from which it all comes down. 

At Sinai the tabernacle was set up. From the memorable 
night of the exodus there had always moved before the camp 
or hovered over it a mystic symbol, cloud by day and fire 
by night, the sign of cognizance of their celestial Leader. 


100 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


And now Jehovah said, “ Let them make me a sanctuary, that 
T may dwell among them,” and to the invitation the people 
replied so willingly that gold and silver came in to the amount 
of more than a million of dollars. With this large offering, 



THE TABERNACLE. 


acting under Divine direction, Moses reared and furnished 
forth the tabernacle; and it was a great day, that new-year’s 
day when it was at last erected. It was twelve months after 
their departure from Egypt, and the first' new-year’s day 
which they had spent in the wilderness. Everything was 
ready. At measured intervals were placed sockets or pedi¬ 
ments of silver, and on these were set up columns of acacia- 
wood so thickly overlaid that they stood up like eight-and- 
forty golden pillars, joined together by transverse beams, 
similarly resplendent. Inside of these pillars were suspended 
gorgeous tapestries, with cherubim wrought into a ground 
alternately blue, purple and scarlet; and outside, the walls 
were covered successively by hair-cloth, by a sort of morocco 
leather, and on the top of all, as a protection from the weather, 
by a stout pall of badgers’ skins; and the roof resembled the 
sides, so that if one could have entered and had a view of the 
whole interior, he would have found himself in an oblong 




MOSES. 


101 


apartment, about fifty feet in length and one-third as broad, 
roofed over and hung round with curtains of delicate texture, 
all wimpling with the golden wings of cherubim. But inside 
the full length was never seen, for at the end ten cubits were 
cut off to form the Holy of Holies. This inner shrine was 
divided from the rest of the tabernacle by 
a veil or beautiful curtain of byssus, and 
contained the Ark of the Covenant. 

That ark was a golden chest, into which 
Moses put the two tables of the Law, 

Aaron’s blossoming staff, an urn full of 
manna, and the book of the Covenant; 
and it was surmounted by a throne en¬ 
tirely golden, backed and over-canopied 
by two cherubs with outspread wings, 
a mercy-seat or throne of grace reserved 
for the Shekinah, for Him who, marching 
in the cloudy pillar, also sat between the 
cherubim. This inner shrine the High 
Priest entered alone, once a year. But 
the more spacious ante-room, called “ the Holy Place,” was 
accessible to all the priesthood. By night and day it derived 
its illumination from a massive candelabrum of seven branches, 
with lamps of oil-olive softly burning; and this apartment 
had an atmosphere exquisite with odor; for another promi¬ 
nent object in it was a golden altar, on which Aaron burned 
incense twice each day. Here also was the table of shew- 
bread. In the court of the congregation without were a 
large altar and a basin-fountain of brass. To construct this 
fountain or laver, the women of Israel surrendered their bur¬ 
nished mirrors, a free-will offering. 

The tabernacle was a peripatetic shrine, a cathedral that 
could be carried about, a temple of canvas and tapestry which 
accompanied Israel in their wanderings, and which sufficed 
as a visible center of worship till such time as the waving 



102 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


tapestry solidified into carvings of cedar, and the badger-skins 
were replaced by tall arcades of marble, and the tent had 
grown to a temple. The worship of the one living and true 
God there inaugurated now counts its adherents by hundreds 
of millions, and includes all that is worth naming of the 
world’s intelligence and civilization. All the inhabitants of 
Europe are monotheists. Save a few savage tribes, and a 
handful of pagans from Asia, all the inhabitants of America 
are monotheists. Every Christian in the world is a mono¬ 
theist, so is every Jew, so is every Mussulman. To-day one- 
half the people upon the globe worship the God of Moses. 

When all the purposes of Israel’s sojourn among the Sinai 
Mountains had been accomplished, the signal for their 
departure was given. They soon reach the southern border 
of the promised land, and send twelve men to explore the 
country. These spies, with the exception of Caleb and 
Joshua, report that however desirable the land might be for 
a possession, its acquisition was impracticable, so numerous 
and warlike were the inhabitants, and so well secured in their 
strongholds. Upon this, the people broke out into weeping, and 
a cry was raised to choose a new commander and hasten back 
to Egypt. The Lord then decreed that this generation should 
die in the wilderness, and their sons should enter Canaan in 
their stead. For thirty-eight years they wandered in the 
desert, during which nothing of their history is recorded. 
At the close of this period, arriving again at Kadesh-barnea, 
on the border of Palestine, they suffered from want of water, 
and expressed their discontent in language nearly as violent 
and unreasonable as their fathers used at Rephidim. This 
was naturally most discouraging and irritating to Moses. It 
seemed to indicate that a perverse, abject and servile spirit 
was too deeply ingrained in the Israelites to be ever pounded 
out, seeing it had survived thirty-eight years of discipline 
and training in the heart of the desert, and seeing that on the 
very first trial the new race had broken down in the same 


MOSES. 


103 


way with, their fathers. He might well regard their mur¬ 
murs as portending a new and long stay in the wilderness, 
at a time when he and Aaron were expecting to conduct them 
into the promised land. He was directed to procure water 
from a rock as on a former occasion. The command this 
time was to “ speak to the rock,” and it would “ give forth its 
water.” Instead of speaking to the rock, he spoke to the 
people: “ Hear now, ye rebels, must we fetch you water out 
of this rock?” And instead of simply speaking to it, he 
raised the rod and dealt it two successive strokes. Water 
flowed sufficient for the whole camp and the cattle, clear, cool 
and eagerly gushing—enough for all the millions ; but at the 
same moment a cup of wrath was put into the hand of Moses. 
Slight as his sin seems to us, and great as was the provoca¬ 
tion, the blessing which was just within his grasp was for¬ 
feited, and he was subjected to the sentence of exclusion from 
the promised land. “ The Lord spake unto Moses and unto 
Aaron, Because ye believed me not , to sanctify me in the eyes 
of the children of Israel, therefore ye shall not bring this con¬ 
gregation into the land which I have given them.” The pre¬ 
cise offense seems to have been unbelief. If their temper had 
failed, the saddest thing was that their faith had also failed. 
This unexpected outbreak of the Israelites, whilst it took 
Moses and Aaron by surprise, for the instant went far to make 
these good men faithless or forgetful. “Has Jehovah’s pur¬ 
pose been defeated ? Has all this wearisome detention failed 
of its design in weeding out the murmurers and preparing the 
people for the promised rest ? And through their miserable 
perversity, must we make up our minds to forty more years 
in the desert ?” The man Moses was exceeding meek, and 
if for patience and a sweet submissiveness the palm had been 
assigned to any one besides, perhaps it would have been to 
Aaron his brother. But after all they were human. Their 
endurance was wonderful, but it was not inexhaustible. By 
the way they managed the miracle they spoiled its glory, and 


104 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


what on God’s side was a gift of pure grace, under their hard 
blows and hot words assumed the aspect of an angry 
Gospel. 

It is not because a man stands high in the favor of his 
Maker, that he may expect to escape the temporal retribu¬ 
tions of a fault; on the contrary, since he is not to sustain its 
eternal retributions, there is the greater reason why the 
temporal should not be remitted; for if they were, his sin 
would be wholly unvisited, and therefore apparently over¬ 
looked by God. None doubts that in that vast congregation, 
all have done far more than Moses to provoke the Almighty, 
and many will carry into Canaan unsanctified hearts and 
ungrateful spirits. But Moses had sinned, and sinned in the 
sight of all, and the uncommonness of his fault would only 
have made his going unpunished the more observable. There 
is not another registered instance during all the years which 
had elapsed since the coming out of Egypt, in which he had 
displayed the least deficiency in faith, but for his temporary 
distrust upon this occasion he must be shut out of Canaan. 
The mitigating circumstances of the sentence we will see 
shortly, when we come to look at the particulars of his death ; 
hut we proceed now to speak more fully of some points in 
his character than we have yet had the opportunity of doing. 

As an author is it too much to say that Moses stands un¬ 
rivaled ? Apart from the surpassing grandeur of his subjects, 
even in the very manner of handling them, the world’s 
oldest is its foremost writer. What other poet rises to 
heights or sustains a flight so lofty as Moses; in his dying 
song, for instance, his parting words to the tribes of Israel, 
ere he ascended Nebo to wave them his last farewell, and 
vanish forever from their wondering, weeping gaze? The 
inimitable pathos of his style, as illustrated in the story of 
Joseph, the tears and trembling voices of readers in all ages 
have acknowledged. In simple, tender, touching narrative, 
no passages in any other book will compare with his; and yet 


MOSES. 


105 


so wide and varied is his range that the writings of Moses 
contain, infidels themselves being judges, the sublimest ex¬ 
pressions man has spoken or penned. 

By universal consent no other book, 
ancient or modern, the production of 
the highest mind of the most refined 
and cultivated age, contains a sentence 
so sublime as this: “And God said, 

Let there be light, and there was light.” 

As a divine , compared to his knowl¬ 
edge of the attributes and character of 
God, how gross the notions of the hea¬ 
then, how puerile, dim and distorted 
the speculations of their greatest sages I. 

As to the mass of the people, they im¬ 
puted crimes and vices to their gods 
which would nowadays consign men to the gallows, or banish 
them from decent s.ociety. But how pure and comprehensive 
Moses’ estimate of the Divine character, of what we are to 
believe concerning God, and what duty God requires of men. 
Since his day, removed from ours by four thousand years, sci¬ 
ence has made prodigious strides; but those who have dis¬ 
covered new elements, new forces, new worlds, new stars, 
new suns, have brought to light no new attribute of God, 
nor a single feature of His character with which Moses was 
not acquainted. 

As a leader , Moses occupies a place no other man has ap¬ 
proached, far less attained to. History records no such 
achievements as his, who without help from man struck off 
the fetters from three millions of slaves; placing himself at 
their head, led them forth from the land of bondage; reduc¬ 
ing them to order, controlled more turbulent and subdued 
more stubborn elements than any before or since have had to 
deal with ; formed a great nation out of such base materials; 
and casting into the shade the celebrated retreat of the ten 



106 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


thousand Greeks, conducted to a successful issue the longest 
and hardest march on record, a march continued for forty 
years in the face of formidable enemies, through howling 
wildernesses and desert sands. 

As the successful commander of an army numbering over 
half a million of men, Moses challenges our attention. On 
approaching Palestine, the office of the leader became blended 
with that of the general or the conqueror. By him the spies 
were sent to explore the country—men not of inferior position, 
as commonly in the Western armies—but men like Caleb and 
Joshua, of standing in their respective tribes. Against his 
advice took place the first disastrous battle at Hormah. To 
his guidance is ascribed the circuitous route by which the 
nation approached Palestine from the east, and to his general¬ 
ship the two successful campaigns in which Sihon and Og 
were defeated. The narrative is told so shortly, that we are 
in danger of forgetting that at this last stage of his life, Moses 
must have been as much a conqueror and victorious soldier 
as Joshua. 

As to personal traits and moral qualities, we have him 
described to us in one word, which our English version ren¬ 
ders “ meek.” This is hardly an adequate reading of the 
Hebrew term, which should be “much enduring,” con¬ 
tinuing to bear, and represents, too, all that we now include in 
the word “ disinterested.” It brings before us the matchless 
patience and magnanimity of Moses which could endure any 
amount of personal abuse and obloquy, and through all con¬ 
tinue to seek the welfare of his nation. All that ifc told of 
him indicates a withdrawal of himself, a preference of the 
cause of his people to his own interests, which makes him the 
most complete example of patriotism. Witness the unselfish, 
for its generosity and self-denial the matchless, part he acted 
at Sinai, when the idolatry of Israel had awoke all the terrors 
of tbe mount, and God Himself, provoked beyond all patience, 
was about to descend to sweep man, woman and child from 


MOSES. 


lOt 


the face of the earth. “ Let me alone,” said Jehovah, address¬ 
ing Moses, who, forgetting the wrongs he had suffered at 
their hands, had thrown himself between the people and an 
angry God, “Let me alone, that my wrath may wax hot 
against them, and that I may consume them.” Nor was that 
all: “And I will make of thee a great nation.” A splendid 
offer! Yet one which not on this occasion only, but upon 
another, Moses declined; turning twice from a crown to fall 
on his knees, and pour out his soul to God in earnest prayers 
for the guilty people. He did more. Deeply as he abhorred 
their conduct toward Jehovah, keenly as he felt their ingrati¬ 
tude to himself, he returned from their camp to tell God that 
he could not, and did not wish to, outlive them. “ Oh, this 



people,” he cried, “ have sinned a great sin, and have made 
their god of gold; yet now if Thou wilt forgive their sin!” 
But what if God will not ? then with such patriotism as per¬ 
haps never burnt in human bosom, or burst from human lips, 
he exclaimed: “If not, blot me, I pray Thee, out of Thy book.” 
I will sink or swim with my people! If they are to perish, 
let me not live to see it. 

But after all, as we try to rest upon some prominent feature 
of his character, we find that his was an assemblage of great 
qualities. Calm and colossal, not so much distinguished by 









108 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


his individual features as by the mighty deeds with which he 
is identified, stands out the figure of the Hebrew leader; and 
this we know, that between the romantic incidents of his 
birth and upbringing, his unparalleled achievements as the 
conductor of a national exodus, and his exalted function as 
the founder of the Hebrew commonwealth, no mere man 
has filled so large a space in the world’s eye, or exerted so 
great and so enduring an influence on human history. All the 
great men of profane or sacred story possessed some promi¬ 
nent virtue or quality, which stood out in bolder relief than 
their other perfections. We think of the faith of Abraham, 
of the conscientiousness of Joseph, of the contrition of David, 
of the generosity of Jonathan, of the zeal of Elijah—but what 
was the dominant quality of Moses ? It would be difficult to 
fix on any. It is not firmness, it is not perseverance, it is not 
disinterestedness, it is not patriotism, it is not confidence in 
God, it is not meekness, it is not humility, it is not forgetful¬ 
ness of self. It is not any one of these. It is all of them. 
His virtues, his graces, were all equal to each other; and it 
was their beautifully harmonious operation and development 
which constituted his noble and all but perfect character. 
This was the greatness and glory of Moses. It is a kind of 
character rare in any man, and in no man historically known 
has it been so completely manifested. The exigencies of even 
those great affairs which engaged his thought, did not and 
could not call forth on any one occasion all the high qualities 
with which he was gifted. We find Moses equal to every 
occasion; he is never lacking in the virtue which the time 
and position call for, and by this we know that he possessed 
all the endowments demanded by even so high and unparalleled 
a career. When we reflect that he had all the learning of 
his age, and that he wanted none of the talents which con¬ 
stitute human greatness, and remember that such endowments 
are not invariably accompanied by high character and noble 
sentiments, we honor his humility more than his glory, and 


MOSES. 


109 


venerate that Divine wisdom whicli raised up this extraordi¬ 
nary man, and called him forth at the moment when the 
world had need of him. We quit with reluctance the career 
and character of one whom all must regard as the greatest 
of woman born—with the exception of One only, and that 
One more than man. 

We come now to the closing scene. Ever since the fatal 
day of Meribah, the prophet knew that he was doomed to 
die without setting his foot upon the land which was to form 
the heritage of his people. And now, when he receives a 
distinct intimation that the appointed time is come, and is 
directed to ascend a neighboring mountain, to render up his 
life, what is the foremost thought in his mind ? Nothing that 
concerns himself, no regret of his own ; all his thought is for 
the welfare of the people: “Let Jehovah, the God of the 
spirits of all flesh, set a man over the congregation, who may 
go out before them, and who may go in before them, ana 
who may lead them out, and who may bring them in; that 
the congregation of the Lord be not as sheep which have no 
shepherd.” Here is the same loftiness of spirit, rising above 
every thought of self, the same zeal for the honor of God, the 
same devoted concern for the welfare of the people, which 
had marked his whole career. We may wade through folios 
of history and biography, narrating the* mighty deeds of war¬ 
riors, statesmen and professed patriots, before we find another 
case equal to this in interest. And it seems a fitting conclu¬ 
sion to a life of such entire self-forgetfulness and self-sacrifice, 
that the prophet was only permitted to see and not to enter 
the good land beyond the Jordan; thus carrying out to the 
last the idea that he was to live not for himself, but for his 
people. 

Joshua having been appointed in his place, nothing re¬ 
mained for him to do but to pour out his heart before the 
people in lofty odes and eloquent blessings, and then ascend 
the mountain and die. The command was given to him 


110 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


in language most simple and easy: “ Go up and die.” Had 
God been bidding Moses to a banquet, or directing 
him to perform the most ordinary duty, He could not 
have spoken more familiarly, or with less indica¬ 
tion of requiring what was painful or difficult. 
And yet was there not much in the circumstances 
of Moses’ death to try his faith ? It is in all cases 
a solemn thing to die ; and our nature when gath¬ 
ering itself up for the act of dissolution, seems to 
need all the prayers and kindnesses of friends, that 
it may be enabled to meet the last enemy with com¬ 
posure. The chamber in which a good man dies 
is ordinarily occupied by affectionate relatives; 
they stand around his bed to watch his every look, 
and catch his every word ; they whisper him en¬ 
couraging truths, and they speak cheeringly of 
the better land to which he is hastening, though they may 
often be obliged to turn away the face, lest he should be 
grieved by the tears which their own loss extorts. And all 
this detracts somewhat from the terror of dying. But no 
friend was to accompany Moses to Pisgah, no relative was to 
be near when he breathed out his soul. “ Strange death 
bed,” he might say, “ which I am ordered to ascend! Mine 

eye is not dimmed, Ay strength is not broken; what fierce 
and sudden sickness will seize me on that mount ? Am I to 
linger there in unalleviated pain ? And then, when my soul 
at length struggles free, must my body be left, a dishonored 
thing, to be preyed on by the beasts of the field and the fowls 
of the air ? ” Would you not expect such thoughts as these to 
have crowded and distressed the mind of the great law-giver ? 
But calmly, as to his couch for a night’s repose, he ascends the 
mountain from which he was never to return, and for the 
express purpose of grappling with death, he climbs the lofty 
summit; though but for his unshaken faith in Jehovah, he 
knew not in what shape, nor clothed with what terrors death 



MOSES. 


Ill 


might come ; how, on that wild spot, he might be consumed 
with slow disease, or rapt away in a whirlwind, or stricken 
down by lightning. Enough for him that God had com¬ 
manded. And never does Moses wear such an air of moral 
sublimity, as when we behold him leaving the camp and his 
beloved people, and climbing the summit, where, with the rock 
for his couch and the broad heaven for his roof, and far from 
all human companionship, he was to submit himself to the 
sentence: “ Dust thou art, and unto dust thou shalt return.” 

We cannot follow Moses in this mysterious journey. If 
the law-giver had received a rebuke, this was more than com¬ 
pensated by the peerless distinction attending his exit. His 
humiliation only brought out more strikingly his real grand¬ 
eur. Although the sentence shutting him out from Canaan 
was not literally reversed, its bitterness was greatly mitigated. 
From Nebo he looked down on the palm-trees of Jericho, 
close under his feet; and from the deep warm valley through 
which the Jordan was gleaming far across to yon boundless 
sea; from Jezreel with its waving corn, to Eshcol with its 
luxuriant vines; from Bashan with its kine, to Carmel with 
its rocks dropping honey; from Lebanon with its rampart 
of snow, south again to the dim edge of the desert; and as he 
feasted his eyes upon the rich landscape of Canaan, its foun¬ 
tains and brooks and olives and vines ; as what had so long 
been the land very far off, and what to the fretful host in the 
■wilderness had seemed no better than a myth or a mirage; 
as this splendid domain spread out, hill and valley, field and 
forest, in the bright garb of spring, the Lord said, “ This is 
the land I” “ This is the land which I sware unto Abraham 
% and Isaac and Jacob, saying, I will give it to thy seed.” But 
beautiful and overwhelming as it was, just then there began to 
rise on Moses’ sight a still more wondrous scene. It was no 
longer the Jordan with its palms, but a river of water clear 
as crystal, and on either side of it a tree of life o’ercanopying. 
It was no longer Eebo’s rocky summit, but a great white 


112 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


throne, and round it light inaccessible. He had just heard 
the name of Abraham, and if this is not Abraham’s self! and 
if he is not actually in Abraham’s bosom! and in a better 
land than the land of promise! 

“ So Moses, the servant of the Lord, dM .” The spirit was 
gone home. Behind that countenance, still radiant with the 
beatific vision, no longer worked the busy brain, no longer 
went and came the mind which so long had conversed with 
God, and managed the affairs of the chosen people. Power¬ 
less is the hand which had swayed Jehovah’s rod, and split 
the sea in sunder; and cold in its unconsciousness is that 
majestic presence before which proud Pharaoh learned to 
tremble. A corpse is all that now remains of the mighty 
prophet and law-giver, and there is no man there to bury him. 
But He who preserved his infant body amid the bulrushes, 
takes charge now of his lifeless remains. Those hands which 
had taken the law from God, those eyes which had seen His 
presence, those lips which had conversed with the Almighty, 
that face which had been irradiated with beams of heavenly 
glory, must not be neglected, though the soul is gone. “The 
Lord buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against 
Bethpeor.” Wonderful entombment! Ho mortal hands dug 
the grave, no mortal voices chanted the requiem; but angels, 
“ministering spirits,” composed the limbs and prepared the 
sepulchre! 

“ By Nebo’s lonely mountain, 

On yon side Jordan’s wave, 

In a vale in the land of Moab 
There lies a lonely grave. 

And no man dug that sepulchre, 

And no man saw it e’er; 

For the angels of God upturned the sod, 

And laid the dead man there. 

“ That was the grandest funeral 
That ever passed on earth, 

But no man heard the tramping, 


MOSES. 


113 


Or saw the train go forth. 

Noiselessly as the daylight 
Comes when the night is done, 

And the crimson streak on ocean’s cheek 
Grows into the great sun: 

“ Noiselessly as the spring-time 
Her crown of verdure waves, 

And all the trees on all the hills 
Open their thousand leaves; 

So, without sound of music, 

Or voice of them that wept, 

Silently down from the mountain’s crown 
The great procession swept. 

“ Perchance the bald old eagle, 

On gray Bethpeor’s height, 

Out of his rocky eyrie, 

Looked on the wondrous sight. 
Perchance the lion stalking 
Still shuns that hallowed spot, 

For beast and bird have seen and heard 
That which man knoweth not. 

“ But when the warrior dieth, 

His comrades in the war, 

With arms reversed and muffled drum 
Follow the funeral car. 

They 6how the banners taken, 

They tell his battles won: 

And after him lead his masterless steed,, 
While peals the minute-gun. 

“ Amid the noblest of the land 
Men lay the sage to rest, 

And give the bard an honored place, 
With costly marbles drest, 

In the great Minster transept 
Where lights like glories fall, 

And the choir sings, and the organ rings 
Along the emblazoned wall. 

“ This was the bravest warrior 
That ever buckled sword, 


8 


114 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


This the most gifted poet 
That ever breathed a word ; 

And never earth’s philosopher 
Traced with his golden pen, 

On the deathless page, truths half so sage 
As he wrote down for men. 

" And had he not high honor ? 

The hill-side for his pall, 

To lie in state while angels wait 
With stars for tapers tall; 

And the dark rock pines with tossing plumes, 
Over his bier to wave, 

And God’s own hand in that mountain land 
To lay him in the grave ? 

“ In that deep grave without a name, 

Whence his uncoined clay 
Shall break again—most wondrous thought 1 
Before the judgment day; 

And stand with glory wrapped around 
On the hills he never trod, 

And speak of the strife that won our life 
With the incarnate Son of God. 

u Oh, lonely tomb in Moab’s land! 

Oh, dark Bethpeor’s hill! 

Speak to these curious hearts of ours, 

And teach them to be still. 

God hath His mysteries of grace, 

4 Ways that we cannot tell; 

He hides them deep like the secret sleep 
Of him He loved so well.” 


« 


SAUL. 


“ Thou whose spell can raise the dead, 

Bid the prophet’s form appear.” 

" Samuel, raise thy buried head! 

King, behold the phantom seer!” 
x 

Earth yawn’d; he stood the centre of a cloud : 
Light changed its hue, retiring from his shroud. 
Death stood all glassy in his fix&d eye; 

His hand was wither’d and his veins were dry; 
His foot, in bony whiteness, glittered there, 
Shrunken and sinewless, and ghastly bare ; 

From lips that moved not and unbreathing frame, 
Like cavern’d winds, the hollow accents came. 
Saul saw, and fell to earth, as falls the oak, 

At once, and blasted by the thunder-stroke. 

Why is my sleep disquieted ? 

Who is he that calls the dead ? 

Is it thou, 0 king ? Behold, 

Bloodless are these limbs, and cold: 

Such are mine, and such shall be 
Thine to-morrow, when with me: 

Ere the coming day is done, 

Such shalt thou be, such thy son. 

Fare thee well but for a day, 

Then we mix our mouldering clay; 

Thou, thy race, lie pale and low, 

Pierced by shafts of many a bow; 

And the falchion by thy side 
To thy heart thy hand shall guide; 
Crownless, breathless, headless, fall, 

Son and sire, the house of Saul! 


115 





































THE WITCH OF ENDOR. 



























































II. 

SAMUEL. 


His birth—Consecrated to God—His Childhood—His Prophetic Call— 
Judgment on the House of Eli Announced and Executed—Grandeur 
of the Narrative—Samuel judges Israel—Circuit Courts—His Sons As¬ 
sociated with Him—The People Desire a King—Samuel's Picture of a 
King—Anointing of Saul—Saul Prophesies—“ Long Live the King”— 
Deliverance of Jabesh—Samuel’s Integrity—Anointing of David—His 
Personal Appearance—Shepherd Life—His Character and Genius—His 
Poetry—The Psalms of Universal Adaptation—The College of the 
Prophets—David and Samuel at Naioth—Saul among the Prophets— 
Death of Samuel—The Witch of Endor—The Shade of Samuel—Death 
of Saul—David’s “ Song of the Bow.” 


It is on the mother of Samuel that our chief attention is 
fixed in the account of his birth. She is described as a 
woman of a high religious mission. Almost a Nazarite by 
practice, and a prophetess in her gifts, she sought from God 
the gift of the child, for which she longed with a passionate 
devotion of silent prayer; and when the son was granted, 
the name which he bore, and thus introduced into the world, 
expressed her sense of the urgency of her entreaty— Samuel , 
“ the Asked or Heard of God.” Living in the great age of 
vows, she had before his birth dedicated him to the office of 
a Nazarite. As soon as he was weaned, she herself, with her 
husband, brought him to the tabernacle at Shiloh, where she 
had received the first intimation of his birth, and there sol¬ 
emnly consecrated him. The hymn which followed this 
consecration, is the first of the kind in the sacred volume, 
and the finest utterance of the general desire for children 
which existed in Jewish females, and which exists in females 
still. We deduce from this not merely the inference that the 
Jews expected a Messiah, but also that there is in human 

' (HU 



118 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


hearts a yearning after a nobler shape of humanity, and that 
this yearning is at once proof and prophecy of the permanence 
and progressive advancement of that race, which, notwith¬ 
standing ages of anguish and disappointment, continues to 
thirst for and to expect its own apotheosis. The womb is 
the fruitful mother of Messiahs; and though there can be 
but one “ Mary Mother of Jesus,” though the incomparable 
honor of giving birth to the world’s Redeemer was hers alone 
—every wife may pray with Hannah to be the mother of 
love, of devotion, of duty, and may hope to be the mother of 
genius and strength, that shall make the world her debtor. 
There is a low type of woman where the joys and cares of 
maternity are shunned. It is a nobler stock that gives rise 
to those who are to elevate humanity, and prove the bene¬ 
factors of the race. 

CHILDHOOD. 

Childhood is always attractive, and displays many agreeable 
features and engaging qualities that are worthy of the imita¬ 
tion of persons of mature age. “ Suffer little children,” said 
our blessed Saviour, “to come unto me, and forbid them not; 
for of such is the kingdom of heaven .” “ Except ye be converted , 

and become as little children , ye cannot enter into the kingdom 
of God.” Their docility, openness to conviction, absence of 
art and of guile, and other distinguishing features, are in the 
highest degree attractive, and often afford the purest enjoy¬ 
ment to those who are sick of the world’s deceptions, and 
weary of contending with its prejudices. And next to the 
child-life of Jesus, the history of the infantile years of Samuel 
is perhaps the most fascinating narrative of the kind that 
we have in the Bible. One element of interest is the contrast 
of years—the friendship of the youthful priest and the aged 
Eli, the boy and the gray-headed old man. Writers of fiction 
often introduce the love of the aged and the young, and cer¬ 
tainly nothing can be more beautiful or touching. And such 


SAMUEL. 


119 


is the true picture that we have here: a pair of friends— 
childhood and old age standing to each other in the relation, 
not of teacher and pupil, but of friend and friend. It is 
striking to see the elder one retaining so much of freshness 
and simplicity as not to repel the sympathies of boyhood. 
It is pleasing to see the younger one so advanced and thought¬ 
ful, as not to find dull the society of one who has outlived 
excitability and passion. 

Samuel’s mother visited him yearly at Shiloh, and brought 
with her “ a little coat.” How her heart must have looked 
forward to this annual meeting, and how many thoughts and 
prayers must have been wrought into the little garment! 
Until his twelfth year, he continued to reside within the 
courts of the Lord’s house, and was taught to call upon His 
name—attending upon the services, and assisting as he grew 
up, in such simple offices of the tabernacle as his years 
admitted of discharging. He seems to have slept within the 
holiest place, and his special duty was to put in order the 
sacred candlestick, and to open the doors at sunrise. It was 
whilst thus sleeping in the tabernacle that he received his 
prophetic call. The voice of the Lord called him by name. 
The sacred history, with all the striking simplicity of nature 
and truth, relates that on hearing the voice, the child ran to 
Eli, doubting nothing that it was he who had called him, and 
said, “ Here am I.” Being assured that Eli had not desired his 
attendance, Samuel, as directed, went again to rest. A second 
and a third time the same voice was heard to pronounce his 
name, and again and again the child arose and ran to Eli, 
and insisted that he was called. The high priest was now 
convinced that Samuel had really been called, but by no 
human voice; and he said, “ Go, lie down, and it shall be if 
He call thee, that thou shalt say, speak, Lord, for thy servant 
heareth thee.” Thus the aged man of God, superseded as the 
vehicle of Divine communication, conducts his pupil and 
nval to the presence-chamber of the king, and leaves him 


120 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


there to be invested with the order which has been stripped 
off himself. 

Again the voice came. Samuel answered as he was bidden, 
and received a message of awful nature to the indulgent old 
man under whose charge he was placed. Poverty, desolation, 
death to himself and his household, were denounced by the 
God he had offended. We cannot wonder that Samuel did 
not hasten to communicate the message, and that he thought 



DEAD SEA. 


with, reluctance and alarm of conveying tidings so dreadful 
to his kind guardian and instructor. But on being adjured 
to conceal nothing, he “ declared to him every word, and hid 
nothing from him;’’.thus evincing, in trying circumstances, 
that openness and strict regard to truth, which, to the end of 
life, were characteristic of him. And when Eli heard the 
dreadful sentence, every word of which must have fallen like 




SAMUEL. 


121 


molten lead upon liis heart, the poor old man, so small in 
active daring, but so great in passive suffering, broke forth 
into no vain lamentations or complaints. “ It is the Lord, 
let Him do what seemeth Him good.” And truly what seems 
good to Him, must be good, however it seems to us. 

A war now arose with the Philistines, and the Israelites 
having been defeated, carried forth the ark to the field of 
battle, the two sons of Eli accompanying it. The ark was 
taken and the priest slain. Many hearts waited with unusual 
anxiety, the tidings from the battle. Among them was the 
blind old Eli, who caused his seat to be placed by the way- 
side, that he might catch the first tidings from the war, 
“for his heart trembled for the ark of God.” The news 
spread through the town before he heard it, for every one 
was reluctant to impart it to him. But he heard the stir 
and the lamentations through the city, and asked what this 
meant. The messenger, a fugitive from the battle, with his 
clothes rent, and earth strewn upon his head,, then came 
before him. Eli’s blindness spared him the sight of these 
ominous signs of the tidings he bore. Then “ the man said 
to Eli, I am he that came out of the army, and I fled to-day 
out of the army. And he said, what is there done, my son ? 
And the messenger answered and said, Israel is fled before 
the Philistines—and there hath been a great slaughter also 
among the people—and thy two sons, also, Hophni and 
Phinehas are dead—and the ark of God is taken. And it 
came to pass when he made mention of the ark of God, that 
he fell from his seat backward, by the side of the gate, and 
his neck brake and he died.” 

The manner in which this sad tale is told, far excels any¬ 
thing of the kind which the wide range of literature can 
furnish. It is one of those traits of pure and simple 
grandeur in which the Scriptures are unequaled. We are 
reminded of the two lines of Homer, in which Antilochus 
announces to Achilles the death of Patroclus : 


122 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


“ Patroclus is no more. The Grecians fight 
For his bare corse, and Hector hath his arms.” 

Of this passage the critic Eustathius says: “ This speech of 
Antilochus may be cited as a model of emphatic brevity in 
announcing tidings so terrible, for in two verses it contains 
all that can really be told; the death of Patroclus—by whom 
he was slain, the combat around his corpse, and that his 
arms were in the hands of the enemy. The tragic poets of 
Greece have not always imitated this grand simplicity ; and 
Euripides, in particular, has the fault of making long recitals 
on trifling occasions. But Homer only, in this, ought to be 
followed. „ In great distresses, nothing is more absurd than 
fop a messenger to impart his tidings in long discourses and 
pathetic descriptions. He speaks without being understood, 
for those to whom he addresses himself have no time or 
heart to pay attention. The first word which enables them 
to apprehend the calamity is enough for them, and they are 
deaf to all besides.” Now this Homeric rule of fit brevity 
in messages of grief, is still more strongly, and with more 
exquisite propriety, exemplified in the Scriptures, which 
abound in passages unapproachable even by Homer, for sig¬ 
nificant brevity and sublime abruptness. And while we 
regard the literary beauties of the Bible as of secondary im¬ 
portance, yet the secondary matters of the' Bible surpass in 
interest the first, matters of other things; and although we do 
not, as the Mohammedans with the Koran, point to the mere 
literary composition of the Bible as a standing miracle, and 
a sufficient evidence of Divine authority, it is not the less 
pleasant to be able to show that the book of God, coming to 
us through the imperfect channel of human language, sur¬ 
passes in manner, no less than in matter, all other books. 

It is twenty years before we hear anything more of Samuel, 
and then he appears calling the nation to repentance, and 
judging Israel. The intervening period seems to have been 
a season of deep degeneracy, which drew down on the chosen 


SAMUEL. 


123 


people the vengeance of heaven, and subjected them to the 
heavy yoke of neighboring nations. The severe oppression 
of the Philistines brought them to think on their ways, and 
Samuel proposed that a day of fasting and humiliation for 
national sins should be held. On this occasion he pre¬ 
sided, not merely in his capacity of prophet, but as the 
supreme civil head of the nation. The Philistines rightly 
considering these proceedings as equivalent to an insurrection 
against their authority, drew together a force capable, in the 
defenseless condition of Israel, of bearing down all resistance; 
but on the supplication of Samuel, the Almighty took the 
cause of His repentant people into His own hand, and utterly 
discomfited their enemies. 

For the more effectual administration of justice, Samuel 
now instituted the practice, which has so commonly obtained 
in later times, of holding courts in different central situations 
throughout the country. His residence was in “ Eamah, and 
there he judged Israel; and there he went from year to year in 
circuit to Bethel, and Grilgal, and Mizpeh, and judged Israel 
in all those places.” The discharge of his judicial functions 
and his administration of the whole civil polity of the State, 
was characterized by wisdom, and by integrity the most un¬ 
impeachable. As the accredited minister of the God of 
Israel, he conducted religious affairs with that simplicity of 
heart and entire devotion to every intimation of God’s will, 
which so eminently distinguished him when a child, under 
the guardianship of the aged Eli. And though we hear of 
no military exploits performed by him personally, yet we 
are told that under his administration “the Philistines were 
subdued, and the hand of the Lord was against the Philis¬ 
tines all the days of Samuel; and there was peace between 
Israel and the Amorites.” But his multifarious duties 
brought early upon him the infirmities of age, and his two 
sons were associated with him in the judicial functions of 
his office. Their corruption exasperated the people, and led 


124 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 



them to demand the retirement of himself and them from the 
government of the State, and the immediate appointment of 
a king to rule over them, and to lead them in war. Samuel’s 
conduct on this trying occasion is no less worthy of respect 
than on all others. We find not an attempt made to excuse 
or continue in office his sons, nor a single remonstrance against 
the injustice, ingratitude and folly of extruding himself also, 
whose integrity none had dared to impeach, and whose long 


JERICHO. 

services and guardian care were invaluable to tne community. 
He has immediate recourse to God for illumination and guid¬ 
ance. God tells him to yield to the wishes of the people; 
comforts him by the assurance of the Divine sympathy, and 
the knowledge of his identification with the Divine cause: 
“ They have not rejected thee, but they have rejected me and 
instructs him to enter q solemn protest against the change 








SAMUEL. 


125 


they sought, and inform them what should be “ the manner 
of the king ” that should reign over them. 

WHAT A KING IS. 

And are not all after-satire and invective against monarchy 
and kings condensed in Samuel’s picture of the approaching 
“ king stork ” of Israel ? “ He will take your sons and appoint 
them for himself, for his chariots and to be his horsemen; 
and some shall run before his chariots. And he will appoint 
him captains over thousands, and captains over fifties; and 
he will set them to ear his ground, and to reap his harvest, 
and to make his instruments of war, and instruments of his 
chariots. And he will take your daughters to be confec¬ 
tioners, and to be cooks, and to be bakers. And he will take 
your fields, and your vineyards, and your olive-yards, even 
the best of them, and give them to his servants. And he 
will take the tenth of your seed, and of your vineyards, and 
give to his officers, and to his servants. And he will take 
your men-servants, and your maid-servants, and your goodliest 
young men , and your asses , and put them to his work. He 
will take the tenth of your sheep; and ye shall be his ser¬ 
vants. And ye shall cry out in that day because of your 
king, which ye shall have chosen you; and the Lord will not 
hear you in that day.” What a quiet, refreshing vein of sarcasm 
enlivens the stern truth of this passage. Sheep and asses 
are the last and least victims to the royal vulture; men and 
women are his favorite quarry. 

SAUL. 

Under Divine guidance, Samuel soon finds for the people 
the king whom they had demanded. Saul is, we may say, 
the first character of the Jewish history which we are able 
to trace out in any minuteness of detail. He is the first in 
regard to whom we can make put that whole connection of a 
large family, father, uncle, cousin, sons, grandsons, which, as 
a modern historian well observes, is so important in making 


126 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


us feel that we have acquired a real acquaintance with any 
personage of a past age. We do not propose, however, to 
transfer his genealogical tree from the pages of the Bible to 
our own, but proceed to narrate the circumstances connected 
with his anointing by the prophet. 

A drove of asses had gone astray on the mountains, and 
Saul had been sent after them by his father, in company with 
a trustworthy servant, who acted as guide and guardian of 
the young man. After a three days’ circuit they arrived at 
the foot of a hill surmounted by a town, when Saul proposed 
to return home, but was deterred by the advice of the ser¬ 
vant, who suggested that before doing so they should consult 
the “ Man of God,” the “ seer,” as to the fate of the asses, 
securing his oracle by a present of a quarter of a silver 
shekel. Approaching the city, they made inquiry for the 
seer of some young maidens on their way to draw water, and 
the reply they received contained an accurate account, even to 
details, of the religious service which was about to take place. 
The judge had arrived; and there was to be a sacrifice; the peo¬ 
ple would not eat till he came ; he would pronounce a blessing, 
after that there would be a select feast; they might catch the 
seer as he came out on his way to the sacred eminence/ It is 
interesting to note what a marked change bad taken place in 
religious affairs in Israel during the administration of Samuel 
as prophet and judge. Had a man come to a city in Israel at 
the beginning of his career, there would have been no sacrifice 
going on, or if there had, no one would have been found so 
accurately familiar with the whole service; for then “ men 
abhorred the offering of the Lord.” But now, the first chance 
passer-by could run through it all as a thing habitual; as 
now, in any of our villages, the order of worship and the 
hours of service are things familiar. Thus men might for¬ 
get Samuel, and crowd around his successor, but Samuel’s 
work would not be forgotten. He had impressed himself 
deeply upon the religious life of the nation. And in its civil 


SAMUEL. 


127 


polity, too, years after lie was quiet and silent under ground, 
his courts in Bethel and Mizpeh would form the precedents 
and the germs of the national jurisprudence. Thus men die, 



life passes, mind decays, but work is permanent. Through 
ages, through eternity, what you have done for man and God 
remains. Take courage, workers, deeds can never die. 





























128 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


At the gate of the city Saul and his companion meet the 
Seer for the first time. A Divine intimation had indicated 
to him the approach and the future destiny of the youthful 
Benjamite. Surprised at his language, but still obeying his 
call, they ascended to the high place, and in the inn or cara- 
vansera at the top found a number of guests assembled, 
among whom they took the chief seats/ In anticipation of 
some distinguished stranger, Samuel had bade the cook re¬ 
serve a boiled shoulder, from which Saul, as the chief guest, 
was bidden to tear off the first morsel. They then descended 
to the city, and a bed was prepared for Saul on the house-top. 
At daybreak Samuel roused him. They descended again to 
the skirts of the town, and there (the servant having left 
them) Samuel poured over Saul’s head the consecrated oil, 
and with a kiss saluted him as ruler of the nation. From 
that moment a fresh life dawned upon him. Each stage of 
his returning* as of his outgoing route, is marked with the 
utmost exactness, and at each stage he meets the incidents 
which, according to Samuel’s prediction, were to mark his 
coming fortunes. By the sepulchre of his mighty ancestress 
—known then, and known now, as Rachel’s tomb—he met 
two men, who announced to him the recovery of the asses. 
There his lower cares were to cease. By a venerable oak he 
met three men carrying gifts of kids and bread, and a skin 
of wine, as an offering to Bethel. There, as if to indicate his 
new dignity, two of the loaves were offered to him. By the 
hill of God he met a company of prophets descending with 
musical instruments, and the Spirit of the Lord came upon 
him, and he prophesied. And it passed into a proverb, “ Is 
Saul also among the prophets ?” 

This is what may be called the private, inner view of his 
call. There was another outer call, which is related inde¬ 
pendently. An assembly was convened by Samuel at Miz- 
peh, and lots were cast to find the tribe and the family which 
was to produce the king. Saul was named, and found hid in 


SAMUEL. 


129 


the circle of baggage which surrounded the encampment. 
His stature at once conciliated the public feeling, and for the 
first time the shout was raised, afterward so often repeated 
down to modern times, “Long live the king!” The mon¬ 
archy, with that conflict of tendencies, of which the mind of 
Samuel is the best reflex, was established in the person of 
the young prophet, whom he had thus called to this perilous 
eminence. 

Saul had the one gift by which in primitive times a man 
seemed to be worthy of rule. He was “goodly,” “there was 
not among the children of Israel a goodlier person than he,” 
“ from his shoulders and upward he towered above all the 
people.” It is as in the Homeric days of Greece. Agamem¬ 
non, like Saul, is head and shoulders taller than the people. 
Like Saul, he has that peculiar air and dignity, expressed by 
the Hebrew word which we translate “ good” or “ goodly.” 
In the Mussulman traditions, the only trait of Saul which is 
preserved, refers to his personal appearance. He is “ the tall 
one.” In the Hebrew songs of his own time he was known 
by a more endearing, but not less expressive indication of his 
own grace. His stately, towering form, standing under the 
pomegranate tree above the precipice of Mignon, or on the 
pointed crags of Michmash, or the rocks of Engedi, claimed 
for him the title of the “ wild roe, the gazelle,” “ the pride 
and glory of Israel.” 

His residence was still at the seat of the family—a beacon¬ 
like cone, conspicuous among the uplands of Benjamin. 
There, king as he was, he might be seen following his herd 
of cattle in the field, and driving them home at the close of 
the day up the steep ascent of the city. A loud wail, such 
as goes up in an Eastern city at the tidings of some great 
calamity, strikes his ear. He said, “ What aileth the people 
that they weep?” They told him the news that had reached 
them from their kinsmen beyond the Jordan. The work which 
Jephthah had wrought in that wild region had to be done 
9 


130 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


over again. Ammon was advancing, and the first victims 
were the inhabitants of Jabesh, connected by a romantic ad¬ 
venture of the previous generation with the tribe of Benja¬ 
min. This one spark of outraged family feeling was needed 
to awaken the dormant spirit of the sluggish giant. He was a 
true Benjamite from first to last. “ The Spirit of God came 
upon him,” as on Samson. His shy, retiring nature vanished. 
His anger flamed out, and he took two oxen from the herd 
that he was driving, and (in accordance with the like expedi¬ 
ent in the earlier time, only in a gentler form), he hewed 
•them in pieces, and sent their bones through the country with 
the significant warning, “ Whosoever cometh not after Saul, 
;and after Samuel, so shall it be done unto his oxen.” The 
people rose as one man. Jabesh was rescued. The deliver¬ 
ance of his own tribe seated him on the throne securely. The 
•east of the Jordan was regarded as specially the conquest of 
Saul. The people of Jabesh never forgot their debt of 
gratitude. 

In their enthusiasm the people wished now to put to death 
those who at first had refused to give in their adhesion to Saul. 
But the king said, “ There shall not a man be put to death 
this day; for to-day the Lord hath wrought salvation in 
Israel.” “Then said Samuel -to the people, Come and let us 
go to Gilgal, and renew the kingdom there.” Agreeably to 
this suggestion, the monarchy was inaugurated afresh.' And 
Samuel avails himself of this occasion,the king now being firmly 
established on the throne, and the people convened in solemn 
assembly, to call upon them to bring forward charges of cor¬ 
ruption in office against himself, if any such they had. “ I 
have hearkened unto your voice, and have made a king over 
you. I am old and gray-headqd, and I have walked before 
you from my childhood unto this day. Behold, here I am, 
witness against me before the Lord, and before His anointed. 
Whom have I defrauded? whom have I oppressed? or of 
whose hand have I received any bribe to blind mine eyes 


SAMUEL. 


131 


therewith, and I will make restitution to you.” On this ap¬ 
peal, the people had the candor to bear unanimous testimony 
to the integrity of Samuel. “ Thou hast not defrauded us, 
nor oppressed us, neither hast thou taken aught of any man’s 
hand.” 

In these transactions, we have the most signal example 
afforded in the Old Testament, of a great character reconciling 
himself to a changed order of things, and of the Divine 



M03QTTE AT HEBRON (MACHPHELAH). 


sanction resting on his acquiescence. Samuel, however, con¬ 
tinued to judge Israel “all the days of his life.” Amd neces¬ 
sarily, in the discharge of his prophetic office, he often came 
across the king’s path. Yet, he treated Saul, who was in 
some sense his successor, not only with fairness, but with the 
greatest courtesy and kindness. Even when the king had, 
by repeated defections from duty, incurred the displeasure of 





132 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


heaven, and when Samuel had been sent to him for the last 
time to intimate the unalterable determination of God to 
“rend” from him “the kingdom of Israel, and give it to 
another,” even on that occasion he was prevailed on, by Saul’s 
earnest entreaty, still to countenance him so far as to attend 
with him on a public occasion of religious worship. Indeed, 
such was the interest he took in Saul’s welfare, and such his 
grief for his fall, that the command of God to him to anoint 
a successor to the throne, seems to have been issued some¬ 
what in the tone of rebuke. “ How long, said the Lord 
unto Samuel, wilt thou mourn for Saul? Seeing 1 have re¬ 
jected him 'from reigning over Israel: go, and 1 will send 
you to Jesse, the Bethlehemite, for I have provided me a 
king among his sons.” 

And now David, harp in hand, comes on the scene. There 
was a practice once a year, at Bethlehem, of holding a sacri¬ 
ficial feast, at which Jesse, as the chief proprietor of the place, 
presided, with the elders of the town, and from which no 
member of the family ought to be absent. At this or such 
like feast Samuel suddenly appeared, driving a heifer before 
him, and having in his hand his long horn filled with the 
consecrated oil preserved in the tabernacle at Hob. The 
elders of the little town were terrified at his coming, but 
were reassured by the august visitor, and invited by him to 
the ceremony of sacrificing the heifer. The heifer was killed. * 
The party were waiting to begin the feast. Samuel stood 
with his horn to pour forth the oil, which seems to have 
been the usual mode of invitation to begin a feast. He was 
restrained by a Divine control as son after son passed by. 
Eliab, the eldest, by his height and his countenance, seemed 
the natural counterpart of Saul, whose successor the prophet 
came to select. But a king was not now to be chosen because 
head and shoulders taller than the rest. “Samuel said unto 
Jesse, are these all thy children ? And he said, there remain- 
eth yet the youngest, and behold he keepeth the sheep.” 


SAMUEL. 


133 


This is our first introduction to the future king. From 
the sheepfolds on the hill-side the boy was brought in. 
He took his place at the village feast, when with a silent 
gesture, perhaps with a secret whisper in his ear, the sacred 
oil was poured by the prophet over his head. We are en¬ 
abled to fix his appearance at once in our minds. It is 
implied that he was of short stature, thus contrasting with 
his tall brother Eliab, with his rival Saul, and with his gi¬ 
gantic enemy of Gath. He had red or auburn hair, such as is 
not unfrequently seen in his countrymen of the East at the 
present day. His bright eyes are es¬ 
pecially mentioned, and generally he 
was remarkable for the grace of his 
figure and countenance, well made, 
and of immense strength and agility. 

In swiftness and activity (like his ne¬ 
phew Asabel) he could only be com¬ 
pared to a wild gazelle, with feet like 
harts’ feet, with arms strong enough 
to break a bow of steel. He carried 
a switch or wand in his hand, and a 
scrip or wallet round his neck, to carry 
anything that was needed for his shep¬ 
herd’s life, and a sling to ward off 
beasts or birds of prey. 

Such was the outer life of David, when he was “ taken 
from the sheepfolds, to feed Israel according to the integrity 
of his heart, and to guide them by the skillfulness of his hands.” 
It is the prelude of simple innocence which stands out in 
such marked contrast to the vast and checkered career which 
was to follow. 

The scene of his pastoral life was doubtless that wide undu¬ 
lation of hill and vale round the village of Bethlehem, which 
reaches to the very edge of the desert of the Dead Sea. There 
stood the 11 Tower of Shepherds.” There dwelt the herdsman 



X34 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


prophet, Amos. There, in later centuries, shepherds were still 
“ watching over their flocks by night.” Amidst those free, 

open uplands, his soli¬ 
tary wandering life had 
enabled him to cultivate 
the gift of song and 
music which he had ap¬ 
parently learned in the 
schools of Samuel, where 
possibly the aged pro¬ 
phet may have first seen 
him. Accordingly, when 
the body-guard of Saul 
were discussing with 
hare of mount Lebanon. their master where the 

best minstrel could be found to drive away his madness by 
music, one of them suggested “a son of Jesse the Bethlehe- 
mite.” And when Saul, with the absolute control inherent 
in the idea of an Oriental monarch, demanded his services, 
the youth came in all the simplicity of his shepherd life, 
driving before him an ass laden with bread, with a skin of 
wine and a kid, the natural produce of the well-known vines 
and grain-fields and pastures of Bethlehem. 

At first we find David as simple and noble a child of God, 
nature and genius, as ever breathed. A shepherd boy, 
watching now the lambs, and now the stars, his sleep is per- 
adventure haunted by dreams of high enterprise and coming 
glory, but his days are calm and peaceful. And yet this boy, 
even before he was sent to the camp of Israel, had wet his 
hands in the blood of a lion and a bear. This had given him 
a modest sense of his own strength, and perhaps begun to 
circulate a secret thrill of ambition through his veins; and 
when he obeyed the command of Jesse to repair to his breth¬ 
ren with the host, it might be with a foreboding of triumph, 
and the smelling of the battle afar off. We can conceive few 



SAMUEL. 


135 


subjects fitter for picture or poetry, than that of the young 
David measuring the mass of steel—Goliath—with an eye 
which mingled in its ray, wonder, eagerness, anger, and 
“ That stern joy which warriors feel, 

In foemen worthy of their steel.” 

A hundred battles looked forth in that lingering, longing, 
insatiate glance. The giant fell before the smooth sling-stone. 
The result on David’s mind is not quite so evident; but we 
think that all the praises and promotion he received did not 
materially affect the simplicity of his habits, or the integrity 
of his purposes. Nor did at first the persecution of Saul 
much exasperate his spirit, balanced as that was by the love 
of Jonathan. But his long-continued flight and exile, the 
insecurity of his life, the converse he had with “ wild men 
and wild usages ” in the cave of Adullam and the wilderness 
of Ziph, although they failed in weaning him from his God, 
or his Jonathan, or even from Saul, did not fail somewhat 
to embitter his generous nature, and to render him less fitted 
for bearing the prosperity which at last became his. Even 
after he reached the throne of his father-in-law, there re¬ 
mained long obscure contests with the remnant of Saul’s 
party, sudden inroads from the Philistines, and a sullen, dead 
resistance on the part of the old heathen inhabitants of the 
land, to annoy his spirit. And when at length he had taken 
the stronghold of Jebus, and brought up the ark of the Lord 
to the city of David, when the Philistines were bridled, the 
Syrians smitten, the Ammonites chastised, and their city on 
the point of being taken—when he had thus reached almost 
the summit of prosperity, from this very pride of place David 
fell, fell foully, but fell not forever. Prom that hour, his 
life ran on in a current of disaster checkered with splendid 
successes; it was a tract of irregular and ragged glory, tem¬ 
pering at last into a troubled yet beautiful sunset. 

A noble nature, stung before its sin, and seared before its time, 
contending between the whirlpool of passion and the strong 


136 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


still impulses of poetry and faith, ruling all spirits except his 
own, and yet forever seeking to regulate it too, sincere in all 
things, in sin and in repentance, but sincerest in repentance— 
often neglecting the special precept, but ever loving the general 

tenor of the law, unrec. 
onciled to his age or cir¬ 
cumstances, and yet 
always striving after 
such a reconciliation, 
harassed by early grief, 
great temptations, ter¬ 
rible trials in advanced 
life, and views neces¬ 
sarily dim and imperfect 
—David nevertheless re¬ 
tained to the last his 
heart, his intellect, his 
simplicity, his devotion, 
above all, his sincerity. 
His character is check¬ 
ered, but the stripes out. 
number the stains, and 
the streaks of light outnumber both. In his life there 
is no lurking-place, all is plain; the heights are mountains, 
the hills of holiness, where a free spirit walks abroad in sing¬ 
ing robes; the valleys are depths, out of which you hear the 
voice of a prostrate penitent pleading for mercy; but nothing 
is or can be concealed, since it is God’s face which shows 
both the lights and shadows of the scene. 

David, if not the greatest or best of inspired men, was cer¬ 
tainly one of the most extraordinary; and his genius reflects 
the phases of his general character. It is a high, bold energy, 
combining the fire of the warrior and the finer enthusiasm 
of the lyric poet. This is its general tone, but it undergoes 
numerous modifications. At one time, it rises into a swell 










SAMUEL. 


m 


of grandeur, in which the strings of his harp shiver, as if a 
storm were the harper. Again, it sinks into a deep, solitary 
plaint, like the cry of the bittern in the lonely pool. At a 
third time, it is a little gush of joy, a mere smile of devout 
gladness transferred to his strain. Again, it is a quick and 
earnest cry for'deliverance from present danger. Now, his 
Psalms are fine, general moralizings, and now they involve 
heart-searching self-examinations; now they are prophecies, 
and now notes of defiance to his enemies; now pastorals, and 
now bursts of praise. Few of them are fancy-pieces, or elabo¬ 
rated from the mind of the poet alone: most are founded 
upon facts which have newly occurred, whether those facts 
are distinctly enunciated, or only implied. David is flying 
from Saul, and he strips off a song, as he might a garment, 
to expedite his flight; or he is in the hold in the wilderness, 
and he sings a strain to soothe his anxious soul; or he has 
fallen into a grievous sin, and his penitence blossoms into 
poetry; and so in every case the flower stands rooted in 
truth ; the poetry is just fact on fire. Suppose a Wallace, a 
Napoleon, or a Washington to have let off in verse the spray 
of their adventures, successes, escapes and agonies; suppose 
we had Napoleon’s song of Lodi, or his fugitive poetry during 
the campaigns that sent him to Elba and St. Helena; these 
would bear some resemblance to the burning life of David’s 
Psalms. 

How far his early shepherd life produced any of the exist¬ 
ing Psalms may be questioned. Put it can hardly be doubted 
that it suggested some of their most peculiar imagery. In 
the twenty-third Psalm we have the first direct expression 
of the religious idea of a shepherd, afterward to take so deep 
a root in the heart of Christendom, and as the Psalmist de¬ 
scribes his dependence on the shepherd-like providence of 
God, we trace his recollection of his own crook and staff, of 
some green oasis or running stream in the wild hills of Judea, 
and some happy feast spread with flowing oil and festive wine 


138 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


beneath the rocks, at the mouth of some deep and gloomy 
ravine. And to this period may best be referred the first bursts 
of delight in natural beauty that sacred literature contains. 
Many a time the young shepherd must have had leisure to 
gaze in wonder on the moonlit and starlit sky, on the splen¬ 
dor of the rising sun rushing like a bridegroom out of his 
canopy of clouds; on the terrors of the storm, with its long 
rolling peals of thunder, broken only by the dividing flashes 
of the forks of lightning, as of glowing coals of fire. Well 



SEA OP GENNE3ARET. 

may the Mussulman legends have represented him as under- 
i tanding the language of birds, as being able to imitate the 
thunder of heaven, the roar of the lion, the notes of the 
nightingale. 

David was, in the highest sense of the word, a poet. He 
has left us elegies, odes, triumphal songs, descriptive pieces, 
and sacred lyrics, in which every chord of the human heart, 
every emotion ot the soul, is touched with a master hand. 



SAMUEL. 


139 


So deeply does lie sound the depths of man’s nature, so loftily 
does he soar to the gates of light, that no poet has ever lived 
■* whose ideas have become so much the common property of 
nations, none in whose beautiful words the hopes, the fears, 
the joys, the griefs, of the spiritual man have found such ade¬ 
quate expression. Manners, costumes, outer forms of life, 
forever change ; but the unchanging character of that which 
is really man, is by nothing more strikingly evinced than by 
the fact, that for three thousand years, and in many different 
lands and languages, the words of David have given voice to 
the pious thoughts and devout feelings of millions, and are no 
less appropriate, in this day, in the mouth of the mechanic, 
the farmer, the statesman or the divine, than they were of old 
to the men who sat beneath the fig-trees and the vines of 
Canaan. In the words of an eloquent Israelite , 1 “As an expo¬ 
nent of the mysteries of the human heart, as a soother of the 
troubled spirit, to whose harp do the people of England fly 
for sympathy and solace ? Is it to Byron or Wordsworth, 
or even the myriad-minded Shakespeare ? No ; the most 
popular poet in England is the sweet singer of Israel. ‘ The 
sword of the Lord and of Gideon’ won for England its boasted 
liberties; and the Scotch achieved their religious freedom, 
chanting upon their hill-sides the same canticles which cheered 
the heart of Judah amidst their glens.” 

But other lands, besides the British Isles, have vibrated 
under the touch of these Hebrew melodies. The lone hand 
of a Luther, holding up his banner before the eyes of Europe, 
has trembled the less that it was stretched out to the tune of 
these heroic Psalms; and through Christendom David has 
been the chief singer of the Church, and the hold in the wil¬ 
derness is still its grand orchestra. 

Wild, holy, tameless strains, how have ye ran down through 
ages, in which large poems, systems, and religions have per¬ 
ished ; firing the souls of poets, kissing the lips of children, 


iDisraeli. 



140 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


smoothing the pillows of the dying, storming the warrior to 
heroic rage, perfuming the chambers of solitary saints, and 
clasping into one the hearts and voices of thousands of as¬ 
sembled worshipers ; tinging many a literature, and finding a 
home in many a land; and still ye seem as fresh, and young, 
and powerful as ever; yea, preparing for even mightier tri¬ 
umphs than when first chanted! Britain, Germany and 
America now sing you; but you must yet awaken the dumb 
millions of China, India, and Japan. 

THE COLLEGE OF THE PROPHETS. 

At one period, when the growing popularity of David had 
led to the fixed and avowed purpose on the part of Saul to 
slay him, he took refuge with Samuel at Ramah. Near this 
place, at the rural hamlet of Naioth, the prophet had estab¬ 
lished a college of religious young men. They were instructed 
in sacred learning and religious exercises, and were led to 
cultivate, especially by psalmody and music, the devotional 
feelings which might fit them, when occasion called, to be¬ 
come the messengers of God, and teachers of the people. Here 
David found a sanctuary. And here he was in an atmosphere 
congenial to his best feelings, his highest tastes and holiest 
aspirations. Here his accomplishments in sacred minstrelsy 
and song had ample scope and exercise, enabling him to join 
heart and soul in their harmonious “ prophesyings,” and 
doubtless endearing him greatly to the good men who had 
their quiet dwelling there. There were probably moments 
when, feeling sick of the turmoils of public life, and tired of 
the persecutions and suspicions which followed him, he would 
have been content to abandon his high career for the peaceful 
and holy life he was now allowed to share. It may even be 
possible that such was his intention, and that he hoped this 
voluntary retirement would abate the suspicions of Saul, and 
mollify his hatred. 

But it was not so to be. When Saul learned to what place 


SAMUEL. 


141 


David liad retired, lie sent a body of men to apprehend him. 
These men no sooner came to the sacred place, and beheld 
the prophets engaged in their sacred exercises, led by the 
venerable Samuel, than their hearts were smitten. They felt 
that they dared not attempt any violence, and they stood con¬ 
tentedly, swelling by their voices the loud chorus of praise 
to God. 

This occurred to two other sets of emissaries, making three 
in all; and at last Saul determined to go himself, and execute 
on the spot the fell purposes of his will. So forth he went. 
On his approach to Ramah, he came to the great well of 
Sechu, and finding there a number of people who had come 
from the town for water, he inquired of them where Samuel 
and David were. On hearing that they were at ISTaioth, he 
turned his steps in that direction; but he had proceeded only 
a little way when the Spirit which had moypd his messengers 
fell upon him also, with this difference, that they had not 
thus been moved till they reached the presence of Samuel 
and his pupils; whereas Saul felt the Spirit come upon him 
while he was on the road, giving him for the time the heart 
of another man. The messengers, and Saul himself on a for¬ 
mer occasion (soon after his anointing by Samuel), may be 
supposed to have been influenced by what they saw and heard 
when they came into the presence of the prophets ; but now 
the heart of Saul is moved in the absence of all such associ¬ 
ations, as if purposely to show that the change wrought in 
him was the immediate work of Him who holds the hearts 
of all men in His hand. It showed that this power was not 
confined to place or persons, and that the prophesyings of 
Naioth were owing to no influence of example or of sympa¬ 
thy, to no intoxicating vapors, or to the temperature of the 
air, as was suspected of some of the heathen oracles of old. 

SAUL AMONG THE PROPHETS. 

Thus the king went on, singing in high excitement the 
praises of God; and when he came to Naioth, and entered 


142 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


the presence of Samuel, lie cast off his weapons, and the outer 
robes which belonged to his rank, and stood among the sons 
of the prophets as one of themselves, taking his part in their 
holy chants. Thus disarrayed of all that marked the king 
or the warrior, Saul, when the “ prophesyings” were ended, 
lay down exhausted or entranced all the remainder of that day, 
and all the ensuing night. David took advantage of his con¬ 
dition to make his escape. 

The death of Samuel is described as taking place in the 
year of the close of David’s wanderings. It is said with 
peculiar emphasis, as if to mark the loss, that “ all the Israe¬ 
lites were gathered together” from all parts of this hitherto 
divided country, and “ lamented him, and buried him,” not in 
any consecrated place, nor outside the walls of the city, but 
within his own house, thus in a manner consecrated by being 
turned into his tomb. But he was not permitted to rest in 
his grave. In the loss of all the usual means of consulting 
the Divine will, Saul determined, with that wayward mixture 
of superstition and religion which marked his whole career, 
to apply to one of the necromancers who had escaped his 
persecution. She was a woman living at Endor, on the other 
side of Little Hermon. Let us look at the actors in this cele¬ 
brated scene. 

Samuel we know—Samuel whose history we have just 
traced—brought up in Hannah’s hand to the temple service; 
with his curling locks and “ little coat ” officiating as a young 
priest; awakened at midnight by the voice of Grod—through 
whose little throat came accents of Divine wrath which 
stunned Eli’s heart, and made the flesh-hooks of his sons 
tremble amid their sacrilege—who stood behind the smoke 
of the sacrifice of the sucking lamb, with his hands uplifted 
to heaven, while behind were his cowering countrymen, and 
before, the army of the Philistines, and above, a blue sky, 
which gradually darkened into tempest, thunder, dismay 
and destruction to the invaders; who hewed Agag in pieces; 


SAMUEL. 


143 


who entered amazed Bethlehem, and neglecting the tall sons 
of Jesse, chose the fair-haired and blooming child of genius; 
who at Gilgal, summoned the lightnings, which said to him, 
“ Here we are,” and who at last was buried with but one 
mourner, “ all Israel,” which “ rose and buried him.” Son 
of the barren woman, consecrated to God from thj birth, “king¬ 
maker,” lord of the thunders, even the strong grave cannot 
secure thee! Once more thou must look up from below to 
perform an act of king-quelling power. 

The second actor in the scene is Saul, whose character is 
more complex in its elements. Indolent, yet capable of great 
exertion; selfish, yet with sparks of generosity; fitful in 
temper, vindictive in disposition, confessedly brave, irregu¬ 
larly liberal, possessed of strong attachments, stronger hatreds 
and jealousies, neither a tyrant nor a good prince, neither 
thoroughly bad nor good, whom you neither can “bless nor 
ban,” he is one of the nondescripts of history. He reminds 
us most of the gloomy tyrant of Scotland—Macbeth. Like 
him, he has cemented his tottering throne with blood; like 
him, he is desperate, the Philistines are upon him, David is 
at a distance, Samuel sleeps in Ramah, God has refused to 
answer him by prophets, or Urim, or dreams ; and he must 
now, like Macbeth in his extremity, go and knock at the 
door of hell. 

The third actor is the witch of Endor. A borderer be¬ 
tween earth and hell, her qualities are rather those of the 
former than of the latter. She has little weird or haggard 
grandeur. So far as we can apprehend her, she was a vulgar 
conjurer, herself taken by surprise, and caught in her own 
snare. She owns little kindred to the witches of “Macbeth,” 
with their faces faded and their raiment withered in the in¬ 
fernal fire; their supernatural age and ugliness; the wild 
mirth which mingles with their malice; the light, dancing 
measure to which their strains are set, and which adds greatly 
to their horror, as though a sentence of death were given 


144 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


forth in doggerel; the odd gusto with which they handle and 
enumerate all unclean and abominable things; the strange 
sympathy with which they may almost be said to fancy their 
victims; their dream-like conveyance; the new and complete 
mythology with which they are allied; and the uncertainty 
in which one is left as to their nature, origin and history. 

Such are the actors. How striking the scene ! We must 
figure for ourselves the witch’s place of abode. The shad¬ 
ows of night are resting on Mount Tabor. Four miles south 
of it lies a ravine, deep sunk and wooded., It is a dreary and 
deserted spot, hedged round by a circle of evil rumors, 
through which nothing but despair dare penetrate. But 
there a torrent wails to the moon, and the moon smiles lov¬ 
ingly to the torrent; and thick jungle, starred at times by the 
eyes of fierce animals, conceals this wild amour; and there 
stands the hut of the hag, near which you descry a shed 
for cattle, which have been bought with the wages of her 
imposture. A knock is heard at her door; and starting 
instantly from the thin sleep of guilt, she opens it, after 
arousing her accomplices. Three men disguised, but not so 
deeply as to conceal from her experienced eye the features 
of lurid fear and ferocity, ask to be and are admitted. One, 
taller by the head and shoulders than the rest, opens in 
gloomy tones the gloomy interview, and asks her to bring 
up whom he should name. Hot suspecting this to be Saul 
—and yet to whom else could belong that towering stature, 
that martial form, and the high yet hurried accents of that 
king-like misery—she reminds him that Saul had cut off 
all that had familiar spirits from the land, and that this might 
be a snare set for her life. Stung perhaps by this allusion 
to one of his few good deeds, in hot and hasty terms he 
swears to secure her safety. The woman, satisfied, asks whom 
she is to invoke, trusting probably to sleight-of-hand, on her 
part and her accomplices’, to deceive the stranger. He cries 
aloud for Samuel—the once hated, the now greatly desired, 


SAMUEL. 


145 


even in his shroud—and while he is yet speaking, his prayer 
is answered. Samuel, upraising himself through the ground, 
is seen by the woman. Horrified at the unexpected sight, 
and discovering the identity of Saul, she bursts into wild 
shrieks, “Thou art Saul!” Slowly shaping into distinct 
form, and curdling into prophetic costume, from the first 
vague and indefinite shade, appears an “old man covered 
with a mantle.” The grave has yielded to the whisper of 
Omnipotence, and to the cry of despair. Fixing his eye upon 
the cowering and bending Saul, he asks the reason of this 
summons. Saul owns his extremity: and then the ghost, 
slowly disappearing, as he had slowly risen, seems to melt 
down into those awful accents, which fall upon Saul’s ear as 
“blood mingled with fire,” and which leave him a mere 
molten residuum of their power upon the ground—“ To-mor¬ 
row shalt thou and thy sons be with me,” shadows in a world 
where the “ light is as darkness.” “ Then fell Saul along the 
earth”—a giant chilled and prostrated by a vapor. And 
how similar the c'omfdrt offered through the Witch of Endor 
to the fallen monarch of Israel, to the dance of Macbeth’s in¬ 
fernal comforters? Shakespeare must have had Endor in 
his eye: 

“ Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprights, 

And show the best of our delights ; 

I’ll charm the air to give a sound, 

While you perform your antique round; 

That this great king may kindly say, 

Our duties did his welcome pay.” 

To this dance, performed to cheer the cheerless, we may 
liken the calf \ killed in haste, and in haste eaten, by one who 
shall never partake of another meal. But here Macbeth rises 
above his prototype. He drinks the “ wild-flower wine ” of 
destiny, goes forth enlarged by the draught, and at last dies 
in broad battle, with his harness on his back; whereas Saul 
perishes on the morrow by his own hand. 

10 


146 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


And who was his chief mourner ? Who sung his threnody 
—a threnody the noblest ever sung by poet over, king ? It 
was a laureate whom his death had elected to the office, it was 
David. His “ Song of the Bow,” which he taught to Israel 
till it became a household word of national sorrow, is one of 
the shortest as well as sweetest of lyrics. It is but one gasp 
of genius, and yet remains musical in the world’s ear to this 
hour. It is difficult, by a single stroke upon the great heart 
of man, to produce a sound which shall reverberate till it min¬ 
gle with the last trump; and yet this did David in Ziklag. 
On a wild torn leaf floating past him, he recorded his anguish; 
•and that leaf, as if all the dew denied to the hills of Gilboa 
had rested on it, is still fresh with immortality. “ How are 
the mighty fallen,” “ tell it not in Gath,” “ they were lovely in 
their lives, and .in their death they were not divided,” “thy 
love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women,”— 
these touches of nature, and accents of music, have come 
down to us entire, as if all the elements had conspired that 
such sounds should never perish. A lesson* to all who write 
or speak! Speak from the inmost heart , and your word 
though as little, is as safe as Moses in his ark of bulrushes. 
Unseen hands are stretched forth from all sides to receive 
and to guard it. It becomes a part of the indestructible 
essence of things. The poet’s name may perish ; or, though 
it remain, may represent no intelligible character; but what 
he has uttered will be sung and wept over while the world 
endureth. Grasp, though it be with your finger, the horns 
of nature’s altar, and you shall never be torn away. Let the 
world be ever so hurried in her transition from age to age, 
she never can forget to carry her least household gods along 
with her. 




























































NATHAN, 


































































































































































































































































































III. 

NATHAN. 


Consulted about the Temple—David’s Sin with Bathsheba—Murder of 
Uriah—Nathan’s Apologue of the Ewe Lamb—“ Thou art the Man”— 
David’s Penitence—His Punishment—Death of His Child—Amnon and 
Tamar—Absalom Kills the Seducer of his Sister—Rebellion and Death 
of Absalom—Lament of David—Nathan the Tutor of Solomon—Jew¬ 
ish Literature—The Wisdom of Solomon—His Judicial Decisions—The 
Two Mothers—His Breadth of View—The Queen of Sheba—Solomon’s 
Science—His “ Song of Songs”—His Love of Nature—The Book of 
Proverbs. 

Nathan exercised "his prophetic office during the reigns 
of David and Solomon. He first appears in the consultation 
with David concerning the building of the temple. The king, 
dwelling in a new and magnificent palace built by the Phe* 
nician craftsmen, was one day struck with compunction at 
the thought that the ark of God was so much more poorly 
lodged than himself. He was filled with the desire to prepare 
a fixed abode for it. Mentioning this notion to Nathan, he 
was encouraged to carry out his purpose. But that very 
night the word of the Lord came to the prophet with a message 
for David. It was declared that his intention was commend¬ 
able and highly pleasing to God; and he was assured of the 
perpetuity of his dynasty as kings over Israel. Nevertheless 
the undertaking which he had in view, was reserved for the 
peaceful reign of his successor. 

Nathan next comes forward as the reprover of David for 
his sin with Bathsheba. The particulars of this sad story, 
whereof lewdness, treachery and blood-guiltiness form the 
horrible characteristics, scarcely need to be recapitulated. 
Among the thirty chief commanders of David’s army was 
the gallant Uriah, who had married Bathsheba, a woman of 
extraordinary beauty, the daughter of one of his brother offi- 



150 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


cers. He was passionately devoted to his wife, and their union 
was celebrated in Jerusalem as one of peculiar tenderness. 
Their house was underneath the palace, and the cisterns were 
built on the top of the lower houses of the city. The king, 
walking on the roof of his palace, saw this beautiful creature 
bathing, and conceived for her an uncontrollable passion, to 
which she seems to have offered no resistance. To cover 
his own shame, and save the reputation of the injured 
woman, he sent for Uriah from the camp, under pretense of 
asking news of the war, but in reality to fix the child that 
was to be born upon him. The king met with an unexpected 
obstacle in the austere soldier-like spirit of this sturdy chief¬ 
tain. He steadily refused to go home, or partake of any o£ 
the indulgences of domestic life, whilst the ark and the host 
were in booths, and his comrades lying in the open air. He par¬ 
took of the royal hospitality, but slept always in the guards 7 
quarter at the gate of the palace. On the last night of his 
stay, the king at a feast vainly endeavored to entrap him by 
intoxication. The soldier was overcome by the debauch, 
but retained his sense of duty sufficiently to insist on sleeping 
at the palace. Then David sent him back to the camp with 
a letter containing a command to Joab to contrive his de¬ 
struction in battle, and with minute directions how to secure 
this object. The brave and loyal soldier delivered this to 
his general, ignorant alike of his wife’s dishonor, and of the 
treachery that was intended him. 

In pursuance of his instructions, Joab observed the part of 
the besieged city where the strongest force of the enemy was 
congregated, and thither as a kind of forlorn hope he sent 
Uriah with a troop of soldiers. A sally took place, and the 
doomed man advancing to the gate of the city was shot down 
by the archers. It seems that it was an established maxim 
of Israelitish warfare not to approach the wall of a besieged 
city, and that this maxim was usually enforced by a reference 
to the historic case of the death of Abimilech at Thebez, 


NATHAN. 


151 


winch cut sliort the hopes of the then rising monarchy. Just 
as Joab had forewarned the messenger, the king broke into 
a furious passion on hearing of the loss, and cited, almost in 
the words which Joab had predicted, the case of Abimilech . 1 
The messenger, as instructed by Joab, calmly continued, 
ending the story with the words: “Thy servant also, Uriah, 
the Hittite, is dead.” In* a moment David quiets down. His 
anger is appeased. He sends a hypocritical and blasphemous 
message to Joab on the unavoidable chances of war, and 
urges him to continue the siege. Bathsjieba hears of her 



TOMB OF ABSALOM. 


husband’s death. The narrative gives no hint as to her 
shame or remorse. She “mourns” with the usual signs of 
grief as a widow, and then becomes the wife of David. And 
now all is covered. The dark deed is hushed up and forgot¬ 
ten, and the king can enjoy his prosperity, with no fear, no 
specter of terror to disturb the comfort he has in the addition 
made to his harem by adultery and murder. The frightful 
combination of heinous crimes which, one after another, he 
had perpetrated, appears to have excited no remorse in the 


1 See the Septuagint. 










152 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


deadened condition of his conscience. The abundant peace 
and prosperity of his later years, with the unlimited j>ower 
over others which his popularity and the ill-defined rights of 
sovereignty gave him, had engendered a taste for luxurious 
ease and sensual gratification, and lulled him into a spiritual 
slumber, from which the bolt of heaven, the direct interven¬ 
tion of Jehovah, will ere long awake him. 

For the historian inserts at the end of his account of these 
transactions, one quiet sentence—terribly emphatic— 

“ BUT THE THING THAT DAVID HAD DONE DISPLEASED THE 
LORD.” 

Thus far the story belongs to the usual crimes of an Ori¬ 
ental despot. Detestable as was his double guilt, we must 
still remember that David was not a modern Christian ruler. 
He was an Eastern king, exposed to all the temptations of 
a king of Ammon or Damascus then, of a sultan of Bagdad 
or Constantinople in modern times. What follows, however, 
could have been found nowhere in the ancient world but in 
the Jewish monarchy. 

A year passes. The child of guilt is born in the royal 
house, and loved with all the passionate tenderness of David’s 
paternal heart. Suddenly the prophet Nathan appears before 
him. He comes as if to claim redress for wrong in humble 
life. It was the true mission of the prophets, as champions 
of the oppressed, in the courts of kings. It was the true 
prophetic spirit that spoke through Nathan’s mouth. The 
apologue of the rich man and the ewe lamb has, besides its 
own intrinsic tenderness, a supernatural elevation which is 
the best sign of true revelation. It ventures to disregard all 
particulars, and is content to aim at awakening the general 
sense of outraged justice. It fastens on the essential guilt 
of David’s sin—not its sensuality, or its impurity, so much 
as its meanness and selfishness. It rouses the king’s con¬ 
science by that teaching described as specially characteristic 


NATHAN. 


153 


of prophecy, 1 making manifest his own sin in the indignation 
which he has expressed at the sin of another. “ There were,” 
said Nathan “two men in one city; the one rich and the 
other poor. The rich man had exceeding many flocks and 
herds; but the poor man had nothing save one little ewe 
lamb, which he had bought and nourished up ; and it grew 
up together with him, and with his children; it did eat of 
his own meat, and drank of his own cup, and lay in his 
bosom, and was unto him as a daughter. And there came a 
traveler unto the rich man, and he spared to take of his own 
flock, and of his own herd, to dress for the wayfaring man 
that was come unto him; but took the poor man’s lamb, and 
dressed it for the man that was come unto him. And David’s 
anger was greatly kindled against the man; and he said to 
Nathan, As the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this 
thing shall surely die; and he shall restore the lamb four-fold 
because he did this thing, and because he had no pity. And 
Nathan said to David, Thou art the man.” 

We have here the simplest of stories producing the most 
tremendous of heart-quakes. No four words in any language 
are simpler, and none stronger, than the words, “ Thou art 
the man.” What effect one quiet sentence can produce 1 
The whispers of the gods, how strong and thrilling! Nathan, 
the gentle prophet, becomes surrounded with the grandeur 
of an apparition, and his words fall like the slow, heavy 
drops of a thunder-shower. The princely, gallant and gifted 
king quails before him. 

Thou art the man is, or ought to be, the conclusion, ex¬ 
pressed or unexpressed, of every practical sermon. A true 
description of a real incident, if like in its general character, 
however unlike to our own case in all the surrounding par¬ 
ticulars, strikes home with greater force than the sternest per¬ 
sonal invective. This is the mighty function of all great 
works of fiction. They have their power in that indirect 


11st Cor. xiv. 24-25 



154 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE 















NATHAN. 


155 


appeal to the conscience of which tlie address of Nathan is the 
first and most exquisite example. 

As the apologue of Nathan reveals the true prophet, so the 
Psalms of David reveal the true penitent. Two, at least, the 
51st and 32d, can hardly belong to any other period. He 
has fallen. That abyss which yawns by the side of lofty 
genius and strong passion has opened and closed over him. 
The charm of his great name is broken. But the sudden re¬ 
vulsion of feeling shows that his conscience was not dead. 
Our reverence for David is shaken, not destroyed. The 
power of his former character was still there. It was over¬ 
powered for the time, but it was capable of being roused 
again. “ The great waterfloods” had burst over him, but 
“ they had not come nigh” to his inmost soul. 1 The prophet 
had by his opening words, “Give me a judgment,” 2 thrown 
him back upon his better nature. There was still an eye to 
see, and an ear to hear. His conscience approved the right 
and condemned the wrong. His indignation against the rich 
man of the parable showed that the moral sense was not 
wholly extinguished. The instant recognition of his guilt 
breaks up the illusion of months. The veil was torn from 
his eyes, and his heart died within him at the words, “ Thou 
hast killed Uriah with the sword; thou hast taken his wife 
to be thy wife.” “ I have sinned against the Lord,” he ex¬ 
claims. The sense of his injustice to man waxes faint before 
his sense of sin against God. “ Against Thee, Thee only, have 
I sinned, and done this evil in Thy sight.” This is the 
peculiar turn given to his confession by the elevation and 
force of his religious convictions. He is worn away by grief; 
day and night he feels a mighty hand heavy upon him; his 
soul is parched up as with the drought of an Eastern sum¬ 
mer. But he rises above the present by his passionate hopes 
for the future. His prayers are the simple expressions of one 


1 i’salras xxxii. 6. 


2 Vulgate. 




156 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


who loathes sin because he has been acquainted with it; who 
longs to have truth in his innermost self, to have hands 
thoroughly clean, to make a fresh start in life with a spirit 
free, and just, and new. This is the true Hebrew, Christian 
idea of repentance : not penance, not remorse, not mere gen¬ 
eral confessions of human depravity, nor minute confessions 
of minute sins, dragged out by a too scrupulous casuistry, 
but change of mind and life. And in this, the crisis of his 
fate, and from the agonies of his grief, a doctrine emerges, as 
universal and as definite as was wrung out of the like strug¬ 
gles of the Apostle Paul. Now, if ever, would have been 
the time, had his religion led him in that direction, to have 
expiated his crime by the sacrifices of the Levitical ritual. 
But he remains true to the prophetic teaching. He knows 
that no substitution of dead victims, however costly, can fill 
up the gulf between himself and God. He knows that it is 
another and a higher sacrifice which God approves. “ Thou 
desirest not sacrifice, else would I give it Thee; Thou delight- 
est not in burnt-offerings. The sacrifices of God are a broken 
spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, 0 God, Thou wilt not 
despise.” And out of that broken and troubled heart, the 
dawn of a better life springs up. “ Rejoice in the Lord, ye 
righteous, and shout for joy, all ye that are upright of heart.” 
He is not what he was before; but he is far nobler and greater 
than many a just man who never fell and never repented. 
He is far more closely bound up with the sympathies of man¬ 
kind than if he had never fallen. We cannot wonder that 
a scruple should have arisen in recording so terrible a crime; 
and accordingly the Chronicler throws a veil over the whole 
transaction. But the bolder spirit of the more prophetic 
books of Samuel has been justified by the enduring results. 

The whole matter is summed up by a critic not too indul¬ 
gent to sacred characters: “Who is called the man after 
God’s own heart ? David, the Hebrew king, had fallen into 
sins enough—blackest crimes—there was no want of sin. 


NATHAN. 


15T 


And therefore the unbelievers sneer, and ask: ‘ Is this your 
man according to God’s heart ? ’ The sneer, I must say, 
seems to me but a shallow one. What are faults, what are 
the outward details of a life, if the inner secret of it, the re¬ 
morse, temptations, the often-baffled, never-ended struggle 
of it be forgotten ? David’s life and history, as written for 
us in those Psalms of his, I consider to be the truest emblem 
ever given us of a man’s moral progress and warfare here 
below. All earnest souls will ever discern in it the faithful 
struggle of an earnest human soul toward what is good and 
best. Struggle often baffled, sore baffled, driven as into entire 
wreck; yet a struggle never ended; ever with tears, repent¬ 
ance, true, unconquerable purpose, begun anew.” 1 

The sentence pronounced against David: “ Behold I will 
raise up evil against thee out of thine own house,” furnishes 
the key to his future history and career, which was as un- 
prosperous and troubled as the earlier part of his reign had 
been happy and successful. His own crimes, lewdness and 
blood-guiltiness, spread their foul contagion over his sons. 
There was in all things a great change; penitent and for¬ 
given and clean of heart as he was, there was a great change 
in himself. Broken in spirit by the consciousness of how 
deeply he had sinned against God and against man; humbled 
in the eyes of his subjects, and his influence with them, 
weakened by the knowledge of his crimes; and even his au¬ 
thority in his own household, and his claim to the reverence 
of his sons, relaxed by his loss of character—David appears 
henceforth as a much altered man. He is as one who goes 
down to the grave mourning. His active history is past; 
henceforth he is passive merely. Of the infirmities of his 
temper and character, there may have been previous indica¬ 
tions, but they were dimly discernible through the splendor 
of his worthier qualities; now that splendor has waxed pale, 
the most fine gold has become dim, and the spots become 


1 Carlyle. 



158 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


broad and distinct. The balance of his character is brok¬ 
en. He is pious still, but even his piety takes an altered 
aspect. It is no longer buoyant, exulting, triumphant, glad; 
it is repressed, humble, patient, contrite, suffering. His trust 
in the Lord is strong, and still sustains him. But even it is 
different. Alas! for him. The bird which once rose to 
heights unattained before by mortal wing, filling the air with 
its joyful songs, now lies with maimed wing upon the ground, 
pouring forth its doleful cries to God. 

Of the age of David at this time it may be said, that he 



JERUSALEM. 

had probably lived fifty-three years, and reigned twenty- 
three, when this base unrighteousness rent from his head the 
honor due to his gray hairs. The passionate grief of the 
king over the death of the child of shame is the first direct 
indication of that depth of parental affection which fills so 
large a part of David’s subsequent story. His impenetrable 
seclusion during the illness of the child, the elder brothers 
gathering round to comfort him, the sudden revulsion of 
thought after the child’s death, his confidence in another life, 
“ I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me,” are proofs 
that through all his lapses into savage cruelty and reckless 





NATHAN. 


159 


self-indulgence, there still remained a fountain of feeling 
within, as fresh and pure as when he fed his father’s flocks 
and won the love of Jonathan. 

The loss of his infant child was the beginning of the calami¬ 
ties that now marked his career. The clouds from this time 
gathered over David’s fortunes, and henceforward, according 
to the word of Nathan, “ the sword never departed from his 
house.” His crime had sprung from the lawless and licen¬ 
tious life fostered by polygamy, which he had been the first 
to introduce; and out of this same polygamy sprang the ter¬ 
rible retribution. 

Let us look at the internal relations of the royal family. 
The king’s numerous concubines were placed together in his 
own house. Ten are mentioned at one point of the narrative, 
but these were only a part of the whole establishment. In 
early youth he had, like his countrymen generally, but one 
wife, the Princess Michal. But from his wanderings and 
from Hebron he brought six wives. To this number he 
added Bathsheba, and we do not know how many beside. 
These lived, as it would seem, with their children, each in 
separate establishments of their own. 

The eldest of the princes was Amnon, the son of Ahi- 
noam, whom the king cherished as the heir to the throne 
with a peculiar affection. His intimate friend in the family 
was his cousin Jonadab, one of those characters who in great 
houses pride themselves on being acquainted with all the secrets 
of the family. This was one group in the royal circle. Another 
consisted of the two children of Maacah, the princess of 
Geshur, Absalom and his sister Tamar, the only two of purely 
royal descent. In all of them the beauty for which the house 
of Jesse was renowned, seemed to be concentrated. Absalom, 
especially, was, in this respect, the very flower and pride of 
the whole nation. “ In all Israel there was none to be praised 
for his beauty ” like him. “ From the crown of his head to 
the sole of his foot, there was no blemish in him.” The 


160 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


magnificence of his hair was something wonderful. Year by 
year, or month by month, its weight was counted and made 
known. He had a sheep-farm near Ephraim, or Ephron, a 
few miles to the north-east of Jerusalem, and another property 
near the Jordan valley, where he had erected a monument to 
keep alive the remembrance of his name, from the melan¬ 
choly feeling that the three sons who should have preserved 
his race had died before him. He had, however, one daugh¬ 
ter, named Tamar, after her aunt, and his grandchild was 
destined to play a conspicuous part in the history of the 
divided kingdom. The elder Tamar, like her brother and 
her niece, was remarkable for her extraordinary beauty, 
whence, perhaps, she derived her name, “ the palm tree,” the 
most graceful of Oriental trees. For this, and for the homely 
art of making a peculiar kind of cakes, the princess had ac¬ 
quired a renown which reached beyond the seclusion of 
her brother’s house to all the circle of the royal family. 

For his half sister Tamar, Amnon conceived a desperate 
passion, and long wasted away, “ growing morning by morn¬ 
ing paler and paler, leaner and leaner.” 1 At last he contrived, 
through the management of Jonadab, to accomplish his evil 
design. Then, his brutal hatred succeeding to his brutal pas¬ 
sion, she found herself driven out of the house, and in a 
frenzy of grief and indignation, tearing off the sleeves from 
her royal robes, and with her bare arms clasping on her head 
the handfuls of ashes she had snatched from the ground, she 
rushed to and fro in the streets, screaming aloud, till she 
encountered her brother Absalom, and by him was taken 
into his own house. 

The king was afraid or unwilling to punish the crime of 
the heir to the throne. He was “ very wroth,” but he did 
nothing. He saw that he had begun to reap the harvest he 
had sown, and the evils threatened by the prophet were com¬ 
ing fast upon him. How could he who had sinned so deeply, 
call his son to account for his misconduct ? But on Absalom, 


r 


NATHAN. 


161 


as her brother, devolved, according to Eastern notions, the 
dreadful duty of avenging his sister's wrong. And he waited 
till he could strike the fatal blow with certainty. He intended 
to make his revenge effectual, and to use it for clearing his 
way to the throne. Amnon was the heir-apparent, and he 
meant to use his private wrong as the excuse for removing 
so serious an obstacle from his path. But to this end it was 
necessary that the king, as well as Amnon, should be lulled 
into the conviction that he had no thoughts of revenge. Two 
years passed before he felt it prudent to show any civility to 
Amnon; but then the occasion of holding a great sheep¬ 
shearing feast on his estate enabled him to realize his object. 
All the princes were invited by him to this pastoral festival at 
his country-house, and there “ when Amnon’s heart was merry 
with wine,” his brother’s servants set upon him and slew him. 
It would seem as if there was something desperate in Absa¬ 
lom’s character, which made those around him feel that there 
was an immeasurable vista of vengeance opened. The other 
princes rushed to their mules, and galloped back to Jerusa¬ 
lem. The exaggerated news had already reached their father 
that all had perished. Jonadab reassured him. Still, the 
truth was dark enough ; and Absalom retired into exile be¬ 
yond the limits of Palestine, to his father-in-law’s court at 
Geshur. 

Brought back from exile by the diplomacy of Joab, Absa¬ 
lom began to prepare his way to the throne. He was vir¬ 
tually chief of the king’s sons. That strength and violence 
of will which made him terrible among his brethren was 
now to vent itself against his father. He courted popularity 
by constantly appearing in the royal seat of judgment, in 
the gateway of Jerusalem. He affected royal state by the 
unusual display of chariots and war-horses, and runners to 
precede him. At length he openly raised the standard of re¬ 
volt. The king fled from Jerusalem. His court and guards 
accompanied him. As they passed over the deep ravine of 
11 


162 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


the Kidron, a wail of grief -rose from the whole procession, 
which seemed to be echoed back by mountain and valley, a> 
if “ the whole land wept with a loud voice.” Another burst 
of wild lament broke out as the procession turned up the 
mountain pathway; the king leading the long dirge, which 
was taken up all down the slope of Olivet. 

"We miss now the daring courage which formerly distin¬ 
guished David. His one great two-fold sin has broken the 



CASTLE OF DAVID. 

arm of his moral strength. That sin separates the two 
periods of his life by a line as distinct and broad as that be¬ 
tween summer and winter. He holds the reins of govern¬ 
ment now with a relaxed and hesitating grasp. There is a 
meek submission to everything that befalls him, as if he saw 
in all another hand than that of Ahithophel or Absalom, and 
were conscious that he deserved the worst at the hand of God, 
though not from them. When he had passed over the moun¬ 
tain top, and entered the territory of Benjamin, he encountered 
Shimei, the son of Gera, of the fallen dynasty of Saul. A 
deep ravine parted the king’s march from the house of the 








NATHAN. 


163 


furious Benjamite. But along the ridge lie ran, throwing 
stones as if for the adulterer’s punishment, or when he came 
to a patch of dust on the dry hill-side, taking it and scatter¬ 
ing it oyer the royal party below, with the elaborate curses 
of which only Eastern partisans are fully masters. David 
bade his companions remember that after the desertion of 
his favorite son anything was tolerable: “ Behold my son 
which came forth of my bowels, seeketh my life; how much 
more now may this Benjamite do it ? Let him alone, and 
let him curse ; for the Lord hath bidden him.” 

Three months seem to have elapsed before a battle took 
place. David wished to head his troops, but they dissuaded 
him from exposing his royal person. Perhaps also they had 
their secret fears that his tenderness for Absalom might em¬ 
barrass them on the battle-field. It is touching to hear the 
old king, as his soldiers march past him, speaking a kind and 
pleading word for his graceless son to the stern and resolute 
leaders: “ Deal gently with the young man Absalom for my 

sake.” 

The battle was fought in the wooded district of Ephraim, 
and the first stern onslaught of David’s men seems to have 
thrown Absalom’s vast army into universal confusion and 
rout. They fled panic-stricken into the neighboring woods 
and thickets, only to become there the more easy prey to 
their pursuers. As the wretched Absalom, now deserted by 
all, hurried in terror and flight through some part of the 
forest, he came suddenly upon a detachment of David’s army. 
Darting aside through the wood, his long and beautiful hair, 
which had been his pride, became entangled among the 
branches of a terebinth or prickly oak—he was swept off 
his mule, and hung suspended between heaven and earth. 
What a terrible position! Full of life, and yet hanging 
helpless in the momentary dread of death! And what a 
change in one brief hour! For one hour ago, myriads were 
at his command, and a crown shone dazzling almost within 


164 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


his grasp. And now behold this vain youth in this 
mingled plight of helplessness and shame, “with none so 
poor to do him reverence.” None of the ordinary soldiers 
ventured to attack him. At length Joab is guided to the 
place, and thinking less of David’s restrictions as a father, 
than of his paramount interests as a king, and of the safety 
and unity of his kingdom, he becomes with his own hand 
the executioner of the beautiful but worthless parricide and 
rebel. He and his ten attendants formed a circle round the 
gigantic tree, enclosing its precious victim, and first by his 
three pikes, then by their swords, accomplished the bloody 
work. 

Hard by was a well-known ditch or pit of vast dimensions. 
Into this the corpse was thrown, and covered by a huge 
mound of stones. Mussulmen legends represent hell as yawn¬ 
ing at the moment of his death beneath the feet of the 
unhappy prince. The modern Jews as they pass the monu¬ 
ment in the valley of the Kidron, to which they have given 
his name, have buried its sides deep in the stones which they 
throw against it in execration. 

“ Shame and dishonor sit 
By his grave ever ; 

Blessings shall hallow it— 

Never, 0 never 1” 

David sits waiting for tidings in the little chamber be¬ 
tween the outer and inner gate of Mahanaim. Upon his 
receiving the fatal news, there follows that passionate burst 
of grief which is one of the best proofs of the deep and genu¬ 
ine affection of David’s character. Ascending to the watch¬ 
man’s chamber over the' gateway, he repeats again and again, 
in his intervals of sobs and tears, those words of parental 
anguish: “ 0 my son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom ! 

Would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my 
son!” All the past wickedness of his graceless child, his 
murder of Amnon, his conspiracies, his treason, his attempts 


NATHAN. 


165 


to dethrone him, the fact that at the moment when he per¬ 
ished he had been seeking his father’s life, were forgotten or 
forgiven in the first irrepressible outburst of that strong love 
which “ many waters could not quench, or many floods drown.” 

Eight times over was the wail of grief repeated. It was 
the belief of the more merciful of the Jewish doctors, that at 
each cry, one of the seven gates of hell rolled back, and that 
with the eighth, the lost spirit of Absalom was received into 
Paradise. 

The touching words of the anguished king, by a natural 
law of suggestion, make our hearts, for a brief moment, 
glance gratefully upward, and exclaim in the words of good 
Bishop Hall, “But what then shall we say to that love of 
Thine, 0 Saviour, who hast said to us wretched traitors, not 
‘Would God I had died for you,’ but I will die, I do die, I 
have died for you! 0 love like Thyself infinite, incompre¬ 

hensible, whereat the angels of heaven stand yet amazed, 
wherewith Thy saints are ravished! Turn away Thine eyes 
from me, for they overcome me.” 

Nathan appears from time to time in the narrative. He 
seems to have been the life-long friend and counselor of 
David. It is surmised that their acquaintance began in 
Samuel’s school of the prophets in Naioth. On the birth of 
Solomon, Nathan was either specially charged with giving 
him his name, Jedidiah, or else with his education. He was 
the adviser of Bathsheba in maintaining Solomon’s right to 
the throne, and appeared opportunely in the presence of David 
to confirm her statements in respect to the usurpation of 
Adonijah. By David’s request he took part in the inaug¬ 
uration of Solomon. Thus while he had fearlessly reproved 
the sin of the king and Bathsheba, he was honored and 
trusted by both of them, and sought to advance the interests 
of their son, and doubtless, as his preceptor and counselor, 
had more influence over him than any other person. Solo¬ 
mon’s proverbs or parables are to a great extent a continua- 


166 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 




ALTAR 


COURT 


EBANOI\ 

o 


CACE Di' [' Lli > 

SOLOMON’S PALACE. 


great 






















































































































NATHAN. 


167 


tion of the style introduced by Nathan in the apologue of 
the ewe lamb. 

Nathan left two works behind him, a Life of David, and a 
Life of Solomon. The last of these may have been incom¬ 
plete, as we cannot be sure that he outlived Solomon. But the 
biography of David by Nathan is, perhaps, the most deplora¬ 
ble of all the losses which antiquity, sacred or profane, has 
sustained. His grave is shown near Hebron. 

The name Jedidiah, given to Solomon by Nathan, means 
the “ darling of the Lord.” He was placed under the care of 
the prophet from his earliest infancy. His reign has some¬ 
times been called the Augustan age of the Jewish nation. 
But there was this peculiarity, that Solomon was not only its 
Augustus, but its Aristotle. Fabulous as is the Babbinical 
tradition, it yet brings the Greek sage and the Hebrew mon¬ 
arch together in a way that is suggestive, in the statement 
that when Alexander took Jerusalem, he captured the works 
of Solomon, and sent them to Aristotle, who thence derived 
all that was good in his philosophy. 

Jewish literature had already begun to unfold itself in a 
systematic form at the beginning of the monarchy. Music 
and poetry were specially developed and concentered in the 
prophetic schools of Samuel; and to the earlier warlike 
bursts of the poetic spirit of the nation had now been added 
David, the founder of the Sacred Poetry of Judea and of the 
world. Besides the Pentateuch, the earlier historical books 
of the Canon had been written, and we have notices of lost 
works of Samuel, Gad and Nathan. 

But with the accession of Solomon a new world of thought 
was opened to the Israelites. A new power appears, called 
by the name of “ wisdom.” A class of men sprang up, dis¬ 
tinct both from priest and prophet, under the name of “ the 
wise.” Their teaching, their manner of life, was unlike that 
of either of those two powerful orders. The thing and the 
name had been almost unknown before. What it was may 


168 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 



best be perceived by seeing it in its greatest representative. 
His wisdom excelled the “ wisdom ” of any one of bis time. 
From bis early years its germs bad been recognized. It may 
be that there was something hereditary in the gift. “ Pru¬ 
dence” was one of 
the conspicuous quali¬ 
ties of bis father, and 
of bis two cousins, 
the sons of Shimeah. 
The almost super¬ 
natural sagacity of 
Abitbopbelmay have 
been in bis mother’s 
family, and Batbsbeba 
herself must have 
been worthy of her 
husband and her son. 
David charges him: 
“ Do according to thy 
wisdom,” “ Thou art 
a wise man and know- 
est what thou ought- 
est to do unto him.” 
The attainment of 
wisdom is frequently 
urged upon him by 
his father : “ Get 

wisdom, get under¬ 
standing ; wisdom is 
the principal thing; 
get wisdom ; with all 
thy getting, get understanding. She shall be to thy head 
an ornament of praise; a crown of glory shall she deliver to 
thee.” 

The first characteristic of this wisdom was carefully de- 



NATHAN. 


169 


fined by Solomon bimself, in the dream at Gibeon: “ An 
understanding heart, to judge the people, to discern judg¬ 
ment” This was the original meaning of the word. It was 
the calm, judicial discretion, which was intended to supersede 
the passionate; chivalrous, irregular impulses which had for- 
merly prevailed. The administration of justice was in all an¬ 
cient monarchies, as it is now in the East, a most important 
part of the royal duties and functions; and there is no quality 
more highly prized than that keen discernment in the royal 
judge, which detects the clue of real evidence amidst conflicting 
testimony, or that ready tact which devises a test of truth where 
the evidence affords not even the clue to any grounds of decis¬ 
ion. This quality comes more home to the personal concerns 
of the subjects than any other, and Solomon’s sagacity in the 
administration of justice was calculated to make the most 
marked impression upon the popular mind, and to be most 
generally talked about through the land. 

The first example was the keen-sighted appeal to the in¬ 
stincts of nature, in the judgment between the two mothers. 
The story is well known. One of the mothers having lost 
her son, they contend for the possession of the living child. 
The king detects the real mother by the emotion she shows 
when he orders the child to be divided, and half given to 
each; and by her readiness to abandon her claim rather than 
see the child perish before her eyes. The despotism of that 
age, and the advance in civilization since, are strongly shown 
by the fact that the woman really believed that this order 
would be executed. Were a judge now to make such a 
suggestion, the most ignorant woman in the land would know 
that he could not execute it. 

But Solomon used the absolute power he possessed, and the 
wisdom which God had conferred upon him, to secure sub¬ 
stantial justice for those who needed it. “ The poor,” “the 
needy,” “ the oppressed,” “ the needy,” “ the poor,” “ the help¬ 
less,” “ the poor,” “ the needy,” “the sufferers from violence and 


no 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


deceit,” are mentioned with pathetic reiteration as under 
his especial protection; “judged,” “saved,” “delivered,” 
“ spared,” “ redeemed,” by him—their blood precious in his 
his sight. “ The king, by judgment , establisheth the land.” 
“ The throne of the king shall be established in justice.” 
“ The king that faithfully judgeth the poor, his throne shall 
be established forever.” “ All Israel heard of the judgment 
which the king had judged, and they feared the king, for 
they saw that the wisdom of God was in him to do judgment .” 

And not only in his own age, but long afterward, did the 
recollection of that serene reign keep alive the idea of a just 
king before the eyes of the people, and enable them to un¬ 
derstand how there should once again appear at the close of 
their history, a still greater Son of David. When the 
prophet 1 announces that this new Prince of the house of 
Jesse is to be endowed with “the spirit of wisdom and 
understanding, of counsel and might, of knowledge and of 
the fear of the Lord,” the special manifestation of this spirit 
is that “ He shall not judge after the sight of His eyes, 
neither reprove after the hearing of His ears. But with 
righteousness shall He judge the poor, and reprove with 

equity for the meek of the earth;.and 

righteousness shall be the girdle of His loins, and faithfulness 
the girdle of His reins.” 

How far beyond the age was this distinct recognition of 
the paramount importance of justice! And closely allied 
with it is another characteristic of the wisdom of Solomon, 
his “ largeness of heart, even as the sand that is on the sea¬ 
shore.” This breadth of view is one of the aspects which 
“ wisdom ” assumes in the only case where it is expressly 
named in the reign of David. When Joab invoked the aid 
of the “ wise ” woman of Tekoah, to reconcile David to his 
son, her whole argument is based on the grandeur of the 
large and comprehensive grasp with which a king should 


1 Isaiah xi. 1—5. 





NATHAN. 


171 


treat the complex difficulties of human character. She speaks 
of the irreparable death which is the universal lot of all men, 
“ as water spilt on the ground, which cannot be gathered up 
again.” She appeals to the universal sympathy of God for 
His lost creatures ; “He doth devise means that His banished 
be not expelled from Him.” She appeals to the superhuman 
“ wisdom ” of David, as able to hear and bear with good and 
evil; and “to know”—not this or that form of temper only, 
but “ all things that are in the earth.” That dialogue con¬ 
tains the germ of Solomon’s greatness. The large and com¬ 
prehensive spirit of which it speaks, belonged pre-eminently 
to him. His “ wisdom ” was akin to the moral elevation of 
sentiment found in the prophets. Founder of the temple, he 
never allowed its external magnificence to outweigh his sense 
of the spiritual character of 
the Divinity, or of the moral 
obligations of'man. He can¬ 
not be charged with supersti¬ 
tion or undue submission to 
the sacerdotal order. “To 
do justice and judgment is 
more acceptable to the Lord 
than sacrifice.” This maxim 
of the Proverbs 1 was a bold 
saying then; it is a bold say¬ 
ing still; but it well unites the wisdom of Solomon with 
that of his father David in the 51st Psalm, and with the 
inspiration of the later prophets. 

One character, attracted to Jerusalem by the fame of Solo¬ 
mon, finds a place not only in the Old Testament, but also in 
the New. “ The Queen of the South shall rise up in the 
judgment with this generation, and shall condemn it; for 
she came from the uttermost parts of the earth to hear the 
wisdom of Solomon.” Of this visit of the Queen of Sheba, 



1 Prov. xxi. 3. 






PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


m 

many traditions remain. According to those current among 
the Arabians, the princess sent ambassadors to Solomon be¬ 
fore she went herself. With them she sent five hundred boys 
dressed like girls, and the same number of girls dressed 
like boys; nosegays of artificial flowers to be distinguished 
from real ones by the sight alone; a closed casket, containing a 
pearl, a diamond intricately pierced, and a goblet of crystal. 
They carried a letter referring to these things: “As a true 
prophet, thou wilt no doubt be able to distinguish the youths 
from the maidens; to divide the contents of the enclosed 
casket; to perforate the pearl; to thread the diamond; and 
to fill the goblet with water that hath not dropped from the 
clouds, nor gushed forth from the earth.” 

When they reached Jerusalem, Solomon told them the 
contents of the letter before they presented it, and made light of 
their mighty problems. He detected the boys and girls by their 
different manner of washing, and discovered the difference in 
the nosegays by letting the bees in upon them. A huge 
slave was set to gallop to and fro on a fiery horse; and from 
the torrents of its perspiration the goblet was filled. The 
pearl he pierced by a stone known to him. The threading 
of the diamond puzzled him for a moment, but at length he 
inserted a small worm, which wound its way through the 
intricate perforations, leaving a silken thread behind it, and 
then as its reward received the mulberry tree for its future 
habitation. He then dismissed the ambassadors, refusing to 
accept the presents they had brought—a thousand carpets, 
wrought with gold and silver, a crown composed of the finest 
pearls and hyacinths, and many loads of musk, amber and 
aloes, and other precious products of South Arabia. 

The queen now determined to visit Jerusalem in person. 
When she came, Solomon, who had heard a piece of scandal 
about her, viz.: that she had cloven feet, first of all demon¬ 
strated his sagacity by the mode in which he tested this 
report. He caused her to be conducted over a crystal floor, 


NATHAN. 


173 


below which was real water, with fish swimming about. She 
had never seen a crystal floor, and supposed there was water 
to be passed through, and gathered up her robe, enabling the 
king to satisfy himself that she had a very neat foot, not at 
all cloven. He afterward married her, and although she 
returned to Arabia, he spent three months of every year in 
her company. 

Of the science of Solomon the sacred writers tell enough 
to show us that, in pursuing this great study, we are his 
true followers; that the geologist, the astronomer, but es¬ 
pecially the botanist and the naturalist, may claim him as 
their, first professor. “ He spake of trees, from the spread¬ 
ing cedar tree of Lebanon to the slender caper plant that 
springs out of the crevice of the wall. He spake also of 
beasts, and of fowls, and of creeping things, and of fishes.” 
We must look at him as the first great naturalist of the 
world, in the midst of the strange animals, the apes and pea¬ 
cocks, which he had collected from India; in the garden, 
among the copious springs of Etham, or in the bed of the 
deep ravine, beneath the wall of the newly-erected temple; 
the u paradise ” of rare plants, gathered from far and near, 
“ pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; camphire, with spike¬ 
nard, spikenard and saffron, calamus and cinnamon, with all 
trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief 
spices.” 

These gardens and parks, “ and trees of all kinds of fruit, 
and reservoirs of water to water the trees,” Solomon was the 
first to establish, and his successors on the northern throne 
of Israel kept them up at Samaria and Jezreel. To one of 
these, at early dawn, according to the Jewish tradition, he 
would drive out from Jerusalem in one of his numerous 
chariots, drawn by horses of unparalleled swiftness and beauty, 
himself clothed in white, followed by a train of mounted 
archers, all splendid youths of magnificent stature, dressed in 
purple, their long black hair flowing behind them, powdered 


174 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


with gold dust, which glittered in the sun, as they galloped 
along after their master. 

The Arabian traditions contain numerous fables of his in¬ 
tercourse with birds, with whom “he conversed, both on 
account of their delicious language, which he knew as well 
as his own, as also for the beautiful proverbs which are cur¬ 
rent among them.” The lapwing was his special favorite. 
The cock and the hoopoe were his constant attendants. 
Clouds of birds formed the canopy of his throne and of his 
litter. The doves multiplied so rapidly from the stroke of 
his hand that he could walk to the temple from the market 
quarter of the city tinder cover of their wings. 

Both the Jew and the Arab represent Solomon’s science to 
have extended beyond the limits of the natural world into 
the regions of magic and demoniacal agency. According to 
Arabian legends, he ruled the genii with an absolute sway 
with his signet-ring. At his command 
they built the temple and the walls of 
Tadmor and Baalbec. On their wings 
he rode to and fro, breakfasting at Per- 
sepolis, dining at Baalbec, supping at 
. Jerusalem. But the sacred writings contain no allusion to 
these occult powers. Here again, by contrast with the fanci¬ 
ful traditions of the East, they attest their own Divine origin. 

The “ Song of songs ” is the most direct sanction which the 
inspired oracles contain of the dramatic element. Of this 
drama the stage and scenery are formed by the gardens, the 
luxury, the splendor of Solomon. Nowhere else is the fra¬ 
grance of spring, the beauty of flowers, the variety of animal 
life, brought out in a manner more worthy of the great king 
who entered so keenly into all these things. “ The winter 
is past, the rain is over and gone ; the flowers appear on the 
earth ; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the 
voice of the turtle is heard in the land; the fig tree putteth 
forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give 



NATHAN. 


175 


a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.” 
We feel as we read that this is onr own feeling. It is more 
than Oriental—it is the simple, genuine sentiment of delight 
in nature. Whatever else we may learn from the Song of 
Solomon, we may at least learn the same fresh and homely 
lesson that has been impressed upon the Christian world by 
the new turn which Wordsworth has given to poetic feeling. 

The book of Proverbs is not on a level with the Prophets 
or the Psalms. It approaches human things and things Di¬ 
vine from quite another side. It has even something of 
a worldly, prudential look, unlike the rest of the Bible. But 
this is the very reason why its recognition as a sacred book 
is so useful. It is the philosophy of practical life. It is the 
sign to us that the Bible does not despise common sense 
and discretion. It impresses upon us, in the most forcible 
manner, the value of intelligence and prudence, and of a good 
education. The whole strength of the Hebrew language, 
and of the sacred authority of the book, is thrown upon 
these homely truths. It deals, too, in that refined, discrimi¬ 
nating, careful view of the finer shades of human character, 
so often overlooked by theologians, but so necessary to any 
true estimate of human life. “ The heart knoweth its own 
bitterness, and the stranger does not intermeddle with its 
joy.” How much is there, in that single sentence, of conso¬ 
lation, of love, of forethought! And above all, it insists 
over and over again, upon the doctrine, that goodness is 
“ wisdom,” and that wickedness and vice are “ folly.” There 
may be many other views of virtue and vice, of holiness and 
sin, higher and better than this. But there will always be 
some in the world who will need to remember that a good 
man is not only religious and just, but wise; and that a bad 
man is not only wicked and sinful, but a miserable, contempt! 
ble fool. 


176 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


“ALL IS VANITY, SAITH THE PREACHER.” 

“ Fame, wisdom, love and power were mine, 

And health and youth possessed me ; 

My goblets blushed from every vine, 

And lovely forms caressed me; 

I sunned my heart in beauty’s eyes, 

And felt my soul grow tender; 

All earth can give, or mortal prize, 

Was mine of regal splendor. 

“ I strive to number o’er what days 
Remembrance can discover, 

Which all that life or earth displays 
Would lure me to live over ; 

There rose no day, there roll’d no hour 
Of pleasure unimbitter’d, 

And not a trapping deck’d my power 
That gall’d not while it glitter’d. 

“ The serpent of the field, by art 

And spells, is won from harming; 

But that which coils around the heart, 

Oh, who hath power of charming? 

It will not list to wisdom’s lore, 

Nor music’s voice can lure it; 

But there it stings for evermore 
The soul that must endure it.” 

Hebrew Melodies. 





. 

















































































































THE CHARIOT OF FIRE. 





















































































































































































































































































































































































































































IV. 

ELIJAH. 


Stands before Ahab—His Personal Appearance—The Drought—The 
Brook Cherith—Raises the Widow’s Son—Zarephath—Famine—Oba- 
diah—Meeting on Carmel—The Test by Fire—Elijah’s Irony—Prayer for 
Rain—Ahab makes his Report to his Queen—Flight of Elijah—His 
Despondency—Vision of Horeb—The Still Small Voice—He throws 
his Mantle over a Young Farmer—Elisha’s Humility—The Parting 
Feast—Naboth’s Vineyard—The Curse on Ahab—Jezebel—Death of 
Ahab—Fire from Heaven destroys the Armed Bands—Ascension of 
Elijah—Parallel with Moses—“ Alone ”—The Impression made by him 
on his Nation—The Mount of Transfiguration. 

The Hebrew prophet, in his most striking form, was a 
solitary and savage man, residing with lions, when he was 
not waylaying kings; on whose brow the scorching snn of 
Syria had charactered its fierce and swarthy hue; and whose 
dark eye swam with a fine insanity, gathered from solitary 
communings with the sand, the sea, the mountains and the 
sky, while it glowed with the light of a Divine afflatus. He 
had lain in the cockatrice’s den; he had put his hand on the 
hole of the asp; he had spent the night on lion-surrounded 
trees, and slept and dreamed amid their hungry roar; he 
had swam in the Dead Sea, or haunted like a ghost those 
dreary caves which lowered around it; he had drank of the 
melted snow on the top of Lebanon; at Sinai he had traced 
and trod on the burning footprints of Jehovah; he had heard 
messages at midnight which made his hair to arise and his 
skin to creep; he had been wet with the dews of the night, and 
girt by the demons of the wilderness; he had been tossed up 
and down like a leaf upon the strong and veering storm of 
his inspiration. He was essentially a lonely man, cut off by 



180 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


gulf upon gulf from tender ties and human associations. He 
had no home; a wife he might be permitted to marry, but as 
in the case of Hosea, the permission might be to him only a 
curse,'and to his people an emblem; and when, as with Eze¬ 
kiel, her death became necessary as a sign, she died and left 
him in the same austere seclusion as before. The power 
which came upon him cut, by its fierce coming, all the threads 
which bound him to his kind, tore him from the plow, or 
from the pastoral solitude, and hurried him to the desert, 
and thence to the foot of the throne, or to the wheel of the 
triumphal chariot. And how startling his coming to crowned 
or conquering guilt! Wild from the wilderness, bearded 
like its lion-lord; the anger of God against sin glaring in his 
eye; his mantle heaving to his heaving breast, his words 
stern, swelling, tinged on their edges with a terrible poetry; 
his attitude dignity ; his gesture power—how did he burst 
upon the astonished gaze; how swift and solemn his entrance ; 
how short and spirit-like his stay; how dreamy, yet distinctly 
dreadful, the impression made by his words long after they 
had ceased to tingle on the ears; and how mysterious the 
solitude into which he seemed to melt away! Poet, nay 
prophet, were a feeble name for such a being—a meteor kin¬ 
dled at the eye, and blown on the breath of the Eternal. 

To much of this description all the prophets answer, but 
it finds its fullest embodiment in Elijah, whom God testified 
to be the greatest of the family, by raising him to heaven. 
Sudden as a vision of the night, he stands up before Ahab, 
the evil king of Israel, and the historian no more thinks of 
recounting his ancestry, than he would of tracing that of a 
dream. “ Elijah the Tishbite of the inhabitants of Gilead,” 
is literally all that is given us to know of his parentage and 
locality. At the time of his appearance clouds and thick 
darkness covered the whole land; the images of Baalim and 
Ashtaroth gleamed fearfully everywhere; idolatrous temples 
and heathen altars occupied the sacred soil; every hill 


ELIJAH. 


181 


smoked with their sacrifices, every vale resounded with the 
blasphemous yells of cruel priestcraft. And now while 
darkness reigns, darkness 
which can be felt, while 
no cheering star gleams 
through this universal 
darkness, on a sudden the 
history changes with the 
words: “And Elijah 
said.” The man seems as 
if dropped from heaven 
into the midst of this 
awful night-piece. Of his 
appearance as he “stood 
before ” Ahab with the suddenness of motion to this day 
characteristic of the Bedouin from his native hills, we can 
perhaps realize something from the touches, few but strong, 
of the narrative. Of his height little is to be inferred; that 
little is in favor of its being beyond the ordinary size. His 
chief characteristic was his hair, long and thick, and hang¬ 
ing down his back; which if not betokening the immense 
strength of Samson, yet accompanied powers of endurance 
no less remarkable. His ordinary clothing consisted of a 
girdle of skin round his loins, which he tightened when 
about to move quickly. But in addition to this he occasion¬ 
ally wore the “mantle,” or cape, of sheep-skin, which has 
supplied us with one of our most familiar figures of speech. 
In this mantle, in moments of emotion, he would hide his 
face, or when excited would roll it up as into a kind of staff. 
On one occasion we find him bending himself down upon the 
ground with his face between his knees. The solitary life in 
which these external peculiarities had been assumed had also 
nurtured that fierceness of zeal and that directness of address 
which so distinguished him. It was in the wild loneliness 
of the hills and ravines of Gilead that the knowledge of Je- 




182 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


hovah, the living God of Israel, was impressed on his mind, 
and this was to form the subject of his mission to the idola¬ 
trous court and country of Israel. 

The northern kingdom at this time had almost entirely 
forsaken the faith in Jehovah. Ever since the death of Solo¬ 
mon, the accession of Rehoboam to the throne, and the re¬ 
volt of the ten tribes under Jeroboam, the evil of idolatry 
had been coming in like a flood. The two tribes of Judah 
and Benjamin remained subject to the house of David, with , 
the seat of government at Jerusalem. The kingdom of 
Israel comprised all the northern districts, and its royal resi¬ 
dence was first the fortified hill of Thirza, and afterward the 
•city of Samaria. Jeroboam began his reign by introducing, 
from political motives, a new idolatry. He was apprehensive 
that if the people continued in connection with the Temple 
and the worship of God at Jerusalem, they would gradually 
fall away from him and return to their allegiance to the house 
of David. He therefore made an imitation of the golden 
cherubim of the temple, transferred some of the festivals to 
other seasons, and chose priests out of all the tribes of the 
people, without restriction to the tribe of Levi. This wor¬ 
ship was a departure from the Lord, a violation of His com¬ 
mand against material resemblances; but still it would appear 
that even in the presence of the calves Jehovah was 
acknowledged, and they were at any rate a national institution, 
not one imported from the idolatries of any of the surround¬ 
ing countries. But the case was different when Ahab intro¬ 
duced the foreign religion of his wife’s family, the worship 
of the Phenician Baal. Gloomy idol temples rose in every 
direction; profane altars, stained with the blood of prophets 
and other holy men, bade defiance to the Most High. 

Against these evils Elijah comes forward as a witness. 
He suddenly appears before Ahab, as with the unrestrained 
freedom of Eastern manners he would have no difficulty in 
doing, and proclaims the vengeance of Jehovah for the apos- 


ELIJAH. 


183 


tasy of tlie king. “As the Lord God of Israel liveth, there 
shall not be dew nor rain these years, bat according to my 
word.” Thus boldly he undertook to shut and to open 
heaven. The whole country of Samaria seemed to shake her 
head at him, and to laugh at his prediction. The luxuriant 
pastures and the well-watered fields seemed to exclaim 
together, “ This judgment shall not be executed I” and a 
thousand springs and brooks flowing through the land, and 
the vapory hills which form and attract the clouds, all seemed 
to join together to falsify his word. But that word was spoken 
by Divine authority, and accompanied by Divine power, and 
neither springs, nor brooks, nor clouds, nor the richest luxu¬ 
riance of vegetation could avail aught against it. Immedi¬ 
ately the heavens became brass over the head, and the earth 
iron under the feet. The word of the prophet struck like a 
fever into the heart of the earth, withering and scorching it. 
All that was fresh and green faded and hung its head. Every 
stream and rivulet dried up, and all that had breath lay 
gasping and languishing on the ground. Neither dew nor 
rain fell during three years and six months. Such were the 
effects produced by the voice of a man, but a man who was 
in communion and accord with the Almighty. The rays of 
the sun which before had diffused a smile over the whole 
face of nature, were now changed into arrows of destruction 
and death; while the sultry winds with their burning lips 
licked up every rivulet from its bed and every fountain from 
its source. The plants and trees dropped their leaves and 
withered away; the lowing herds and bleating flocks explored 
every spot in the parched fields; the wild beasts moaned in 
the forests; the dearth rose to its height, and it was not long 
till the famine became universal, and turned every habitation 
into a place of mourning and woe. 

THE BROOK CHERITH. 

Meanwhile Elijah is a sufferer with the rest, exposed to 
the wrath he had drawn down, in danger of famine and death, 


184 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


threatened with the vengeance of the court, execrated bj the 
whole nation, and devoted to ruin by the infuriated populace. 
He is directed to the brook Cherith. Let us visit the prophet 
in his new dwelling-place. A dreary wild, near the banks 
of the Jordan, is the scene that opens before us. Dead silence 
reigns around, save when broken by the cry of the solitary 
bittern; while amongst the heath and the juniper bushes 
broods the ostrich, no hunter disturbing its repose. No path¬ 
way opens to the view, not a human footstep is seen; all is 
wilderness and solitude. But our course lies yonder, where 
the naked rocks rear their lofty heads, and the forests frown. 
Through one thicket and another, and by narrow passes, we 
come at length to a deep and narrow glen, overhung with 
tangled wood, where a brook runs murmuring, along, and 
finds its way between the rocky masses. There, in the hollow 
of the torrent-bed sits the man of God ! This is his appointed 
dwelling; the blue sky his roof, the bare rocks his walls, the 
stone his seat, the shady wood his bed-chamber, the grass his 
couch ; his company the purling brook and the ravens aloft 
among the trees. Here for twelve months he dwells; and 
solitude does not become wearisome, nor the hissing of ser¬ 
pents or the distant roar of the lion inject terror into his soul, 
for he remembers, “I am here for the Lord’s sake, His foot¬ 
steps are among these rocks, and around me are the evidences 
of His power.” He needs neither books nor society, neither 
labor nor diversion to entertain him. Silent nature is a suffi 
cientbook—the treasure of his own experience an ample 
volume. He hears the gentlest whispers of the Lord more 
readily than amid the noise of the busy world. The works 
of creation are a living epistle to him. The rock preaches 
of the Rock that ever lives, on which his own feet are planted. 
The brook has many sweet things to say of the truth and 
faithfulness of God; it tells of other waters still to come— 
waters to be poured out upon the thirsty, floods upon the dry 
ground, springs that are to break forth in the desert; it 


ELIJAH. 


185 


points to the pure river of tlie water of life, flowing from the 
throne.of God and the Lamb, which another seer, in a coming 
age, is to behold and paint in his glowing apocalyptic vision. 
At one time the shady trees speak to him of the comforts of 
the tree of life, and of those heavenly palms from whose tops 
eternal peace will at length breathe upon him. At another, 
the cheerful songsters of the air, and the wild roses in the 
brakes sing to him, “ He who cares for us in this wilderness, 
feeding the one and giving fragrance and beauty to the other, 
cannot forget thee.” In short, everything begins to live and 
breathe and talk around him—the stars in the firmament, the 
drops on the leaves, the zephyrs among the shrubs, the 
flowers in the little nooks by the brook-side. 

But now the brook begins to dry up, it becomes a mere 
trickling rivulet, and at last fails utterly. 

In vain the ravens continue to supply 
him with food. No sooner does the 
morning dawn in Cherith’s rocky vale 
than their cry is heard aloft in the 
trees; and when Elijah wakes, he be¬ 
holds the provision for the day lying 
before him. And when the evening 
shades advance, these liveried servants 
again appear, laden with meat and 
bread. But he cannot live without 
water, and death by thirst seems im¬ 
minent. A refuge is provided for him 
at Zarephath, a Phenician town lying between Tyre and 
Sidon. To reach this, Elijah must make a long and toil¬ 
some journey, through a wild and barren country, in a time of 
general famine and extreme drought; and find an asylum at last 
among a heathen people enslaved to a vile idolatry, the na¬ 
tive country of Jezebel, his bitterest enemy, and the territory 
of her father, a furious tyrant and the ally of Ahab. Cer¬ 
tainly this must try the courage and faith of Elijah, the 






186 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


enemy of Baal. However, the widow woman, to whose 
house he was directed, seems to have been an Israelite, and 
no Baal-worshiper. Arrived in the neighborhood of Zare- 
phath, he finds the way prepared for his reception. He comes 
near the gate of the city, and lo, the widow woman is there 
gathering sticks for fuel. The Spirit, perhaps, intimates to 
him that this is the woman to whom he is directed. Poor as 
she appears to be from the occupation in which she is now 
engaged, he knows if the Lord has appointed her to sustain 
him, she will have wherewith to do it. He speaks to her: 
“Fetch me, I pray thee, a little water in a vessel, that I may 
drink.” Her readiness to go encourages him, for as she is 
going to fetch it, he adds: “ Bring me, I pray thee, a morsel 
of bread in thine hand.” This opens afresh the wounds of 
the poor widow’s heart. She answers: “As the Lord thy 
God liveth, I have not even the smallest loaf of bread; only 
a handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse; and 
behold I am gathering two sticks, that I may go in and dress 
it for me and my son, that we may eat it and die. And 
Elijah said unto her, Fear not: go and do as thou hast said; but 
make me thereof a little cake first and bring it unto me, and 
after, make for thee and thy son. For thus saith the Lord 
God of Israel, The barrel of meal shall not waste, neither 
shall the cruse of oil fail, until the day that the Lord sendeth 
rain upon the earth. And she went and did according to the 
saying of Elijah; and she and he and her house did eat many 
days. And the barrel of meal wasted not, neither did the 
cruse of oil fail, according to the word of the Lord, which 
He spake by Elijah.” This beautiful narrative has lost none 
of its savor by the lapse of time. Its interest is fresh and 
inexhaustible. One wonders whether to admire most the 
faith of Elijah or of the woman. But it is perhaps worth 
while to remark that no premium is here put upon indolence 
or the enthusiasm that looks to God for bread without the 
use of means. The miraculous feeding of the prophet and 





RAISING THE WIDOW’S SON, 
















































ELIJAH. 


137 


his friends is not intended to encourage us in the expectation 
that God will supply our wants without the proper exercise 
of our faculties in the callings in which He has placed us. 

The Lord did not give this poor widow a whole vat of oil 
and barn full of grain or ware-house of flour all at once, suf¬ 
ficient to carry her through all the years of famine. But . He 
so ordered that whenever she came to the barrel &till 
found a handful of meal in the bottom, and He kept a little 
oil still in the cruse. The simple elements of her house¬ 
keeping were never exhausted. The supply was always 
equal to the necessities of the hour. And so will it be with 
those who trust in the Lord, both as to their temporal and 
spiritual wants. They will find the promise verified: “As 
thy day so shall thy strength be;” “My grace is sufficient 
for thee.” Thousands daily experience the faithfulness of 
God, substantially as it was exemplified at Zarephath, though 
not in the same form or manner. 

KAISES THE WIDOW’S SON. 

Unexpectedly, in the midst of cheering blessings, a heavy 
cloud darkened the peaceful cottage. The widow’s son; her 
only child, doubly dear to her in consequence of his wonder¬ 
ful preservation from imminent death by famine, “ fell sick.” 
The sickness increased every hour, and the distress of the 
poor mother was extreme; but her tears prevailed not. Her 
delight and hope, the dearest object she had on earth, lay ex¬ 
tended in the arms of death. Behold her bowed down with 
grief and misery, and sitting with her dead child strained to 
her bosom, as if she would again warm his stiffened limbs at 
her throbbing heart. The prophet is touched with heartfelt 
compassion and sympathy. “And he said unto her, Give me 
thy son. And he took him out of her bosom, and carried 
him up into a loft where he abode, and laid him upon his own 
bed. And he cried unto the Lord and said: 0 Lord, my 
God, hast Thou also brought evil upon the widow with whom 


188 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


I sojourn by slaying her son ? And he stretched himself 
upon the child three times, and cried unto the Lord and said, 
0 Lord my God I pray Thee let this child’s soul come into 
him again. And the Lord heard the voice of Elijah; and 
the soul of the child came into him 
again, and he revived. And Elijah 
took the child and brought him 
down out of the chamber into the 
house, and delivered him unto his 
mother, and Elijah said, See, thy 
son liveth.” He who by prayer 
shut the heaven from rain, by 
prayer also opened it for life to the 
widow’s son. This is the first mir¬ 
acle of the kind on record. It belonged to him who was to 
stand with Moses and with Christ upon Tabor, to be the first 
who should, be the means of restoring the dead to life. 

ZAREPHATH. 

Two years were spent by the prophet in this retreat. And 
the hills and vales where he prayed and meditated must ever 
be of interest to the Christian. Zarephath, called Sarepta in 
the New Testament, is the modern Zarapha. It is situated 
on a hill-side, some two miles from the sea, amid a scene of 
wild beauty. Although called “ a city,” it was most proba¬ 
bly always a place of moderate size, the simplicity of whose 
manners and tastes was uncorrupted by the neighborhood of 
Tyre and Sidon. Its dwellings and its people are homely 
and pastoral. JSTo ruin of roofless walls, or old gateway cov¬ 
ered with grass and wild flowers, is shown as the remnant of 
the widow’s cottage. Tradition has given up its identity in 
despair, while preserving the identity of the village. The 
distant groves of Sidon, the fine summits of Lebanon, the 
wilder hills behind its own wild hill, are all visible from 
Zarapha. There is no chapel in the village. It is destitute 
of religious service throughout the year, as if the numerous 









































ELIJAH. 


189 


monasteries of Lebanon could not spare one priest out of 
their hives to dwell here, or to gather its villagers on the Sab¬ 
bath. The “cold-flowing waters from the rock in the field” 
may be the same which supplied the wants of the widow and 
the prophet. Each of the cottages has two (at most three) 
little windows and two chambers, with earthen floors, and a 
raised divan of earth against the wall. The stranger is wel¬ 
come, and the best fare they can supply is set before him. 
In such a scene he wants little save the customary pipe and 
cup of coffee, and liberty to remain a few hours and see the 
sun go down on shore and sea, on the desert and the gardens, 
on Lebanon and the noble mountain whose wastes of snow 
are seen in front towering toward Damascus. At the foot of 
the hills are some sepulchral grots cut in the rocks, proba¬ 
bly the burial places of the ancient inhabitants. The people 
at work in the plain below are gathering in the cotton on the 
plantations. Their condition is not an impoverished one. 
The soil is fruitful and well repays the hand of industry. 
The wants of the natives are few and their habits frugal; 
the cultivation of the vine, of cotton and silk, and the care 
of the flocks occupy a great number. Vegetables of various 
kinds are easily and quickly raised; gourds, onions, olives, 
etc., with a little rice, furnish abundance of nourishing food ; 
wine of the common kinds is cheap, and little animal food is 
used. The people still, as in ancient times, love the hills for 
a habitation rather than the vales; like Zarapha, the greater 
part of the villages are on the declivities. On the summits 
and sides of the hills are masses of gray rock; to the top, 
almost, there is pasturage, and the shepherd is watching his 
flock, and afar you may hear his Syrian pipe. It is a scene 
to which the messenger of heaven doubtless loved to retire; 
and how interesting and beautiful were the wanderings of 
Elijah, and the other great and hallowed characters of Scrip¬ 
ture, over the desert and the plain, the vale and mountain, 
where their only communion was with God, and all theii 


190 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


light and joy and comfort were drawn from His love and 
His presence. 

The drought continued, and at last the full horrors of 
famine, caused by the failure of the crops, descended on 
Samaria. The king and Obadiah, his chief domestic officer, 
divided between them the mournful duty of ascertaining that 
neither round the springs, which are so frequent a feature of 
central Palestine, nor in the nooks and crannies of the most 
shaded torrent-beds, was there any of the herbage left, which 
in those countries is so certain an indication of the presence 
of moisture. It is the moment for the reappearance of the 
prophet. He shows himself first to the minister. There, 
suddenly planted in his path, is the man whom he and his 
master have been seeking for more than three years. “As 
the Lord thy God liveth, there is no nation or kingdom 
whither my lord hath not sent to seek thee; and when they 
said, he is not here , he took an oath of the kingdom and nation 
that they found thee not.” Before the sudden apparition of 
that wild figure, and that stern, unbroken countenance, Oba¬ 
diah could not but fall on his face. And when the prophet 
directed him to tell his master, “ Behold, Elijah is here,” no 
wonder he feared that as on a former occasion, Elijah would 
disappear before he could return with the king. “ It shall 
come to pass as soon as I am gone from thee, that the Spirit 
of the Lord shall carry thee whither I know not; and so 
when I come and tell Ahab, and he cannot find thee, he shall 
slay me.” Obadiah properly enough puts in a plea for him¬ 
self, founded on his services to the people of God in the time 
of their extremity. “ I thy servant fear the Lord from my 
youth. Was it not told my lord what I did, when Jezebel 
slew the prophets of the Lord, how I hid an hundred men of 
the Lord’s prophets by fifty in a cave, and fed them -with 
bread and water ? and now thou sayest, Go tell thy lord, Be¬ 
hold Elijah is here; and he shall slay me.” The evil prac¬ 
tices of Ahab and Jezebel had not contaminated the heart of 


ELIJAH. 


191 


good Obadiah, but be retained bis integrity even in tbe very 
midst of corruption. In tbe modern language of court-life, 
be was lord bigb chamber lain or lord mayor of tbe palace ; 
and bis influence with tbe king must have been great to en¬ 
able bim to retain bis position, tbougb a devout worshiper 
of Jehovah, during tbe fierce persecution of tbe prophets by 
Jezebel. Thus tbe goodness and tbe wisdom of tbe Lord were 
manifest, and let .us remember for our encouragement in 
dark and troublous times, that tbe Lord provides a protector 
for Ilis people in tbe very bosom of their inveterate enemies. 
In tbe profligate court of Abab there was a righteous Oba- 
diab, who took care of the afflicted servants of God; and in 
tbe very worst of times, and amidst tbe most corrupt people, 
there will be found some who stand steadfast in tbe faith, and 
prove “ tbe salt of tbe earth.” 

Elijah relieves tbe apprehensions of tbe good minister of 
Abab. “As Jehovah of hosts liveth, before whom I stand, 
I will surely show myself unto bim to-day.” Obadiab de¬ 
parts to inform Abab that tbe man they seek is there. Abab, 
arrived, at once begins to inveigh against tbe prophet as tbe 
cause of tbe general misery. “ Art thou be that troubletb 
Israel?” But Elijah answers, “I have not troubled Israel; 
but thou and thy father’s bouse, in that ye have forsaken tbe 
commandments of tbe Lord—and thou bast followed Baalim.” 
Tbe cause of your suffering is in yourselves , in your sin. I 
have pointed out your wickedness, I have warned you of the 
consequences, I have denounced tbe judgments of God against 
your disobedience, and these judgments have come according 
to my word; but I have only been an instrument in tbe 
bands of tbe Lord; He has punished you for your transgres¬ 
sions. “ Now, therefore, send and gather to me all Israel 
unto Mount Carmel, and tbe prophets of Baal four hundred 
and fifty, and tbe prophets of tbe groves four hundred, which 
eat at Jezebel’s table.” 

Tbe command of Elijah, standing alone but unawed amid 


192 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


the train of Ahab, and speaking with Divine authority, is 
obeyed. An assembly of the people is convened. The idola¬ 
trous prophets are gathered upon the 
top of Carmel. Elijah rebukes the 
Israelites for their inconstancy, their 
indecision. “ How long halt ye be¬ 
tween two opinions ?” Literally, 
how long do ye hop about on two 
boughs? a metaphor taken from 
birds hopping from bough to bough, 
not knowing on which to settle, now- 
resting on one, now on another. M If 
the Lord be God, follow Him; but 
if Baal, then follow him.” Silence 
followed this appeal. The people 
answered not a word. Then Elijah 
proposed a test . “ I only am a pro¬ 

phet of the Lord, while Baal’s pro¬ 
phets are four hundred and fifty men. 
Let us each prepare a sacrifice. Their devotion shall be 
combined , mine single. The god that answereth by fire, let 
him be God.” The idolaters could not object to so fair a 
proposition. They prepare a bullock, and lay the pieces 
upon the wood; they cry unto their god from morning until 
noon, “ 0 Baal, hear us 1” But they meet with no response. 
They rend the skies with clamor ; they leap upon the altar, 
as if they would ascend to meet those fires which delay to 
come down; Mount Carmel reechoes with their shrieks, but 
the heaven is silent. “ And it came to pass at noon, that 
Elijah mocked them, and said, cry aloud, for he is a god; 
either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is on a jour¬ 
ney, or peradventure he sleepeth and must be awakened.” 
At this the priests of Baal renew their horrid cries. In 
frantic rage they seize the instruments of sacrifice, and 
shed their own blood upon the altar. They continue their 



ANKLETS. 


ELIJAH. 


193 


hideous rites till the time of the evening sacrifice. But“ there 
was neither voice, nor any to answer, nor any that regarded.” 
Dismayed at the ill success of their shrieks, and wounds and 
frantic gesticulations, they sit down overwhelmed with 
shame and weariness and anguish, tormenting themselves 
with their own despair and dreading the success of their 
adversary. 

“ Then Elijah speaks unto all the people, Come near unto 
me.” He repairs the altar of the Lord. He will not avail 
himself of the altar and the sacrifice profaned by idolatry. 
Jehovah’s altar, consecrated in better times to the service 
of God, dilapidated now through the degeneracy and neglect 
of Israel, is dear to him in its ruins. He lays twelve stones 
on this hallowed pile, according to the number of the tribes 
of Israel. He regards not the division of the nation, the per¬ 
version of ten tribes to Baal. Ministering here in the pres¬ 
ence of one of the fragments into which the Theocracy had 
been broken, he yet ministers as the representative of the 
unsundered nation. He reminds the Israelites of their pris¬ 
tine glory, of the common origin of the twelve tribes; and 
his religious service, while a service for Israel, is one that 
includes Benjamin and Judah. He has respect unto the an¬ 
cient covenant made with the holy patriarchs. If possible, 
he would bring back the ten tribes to their primitive simpli¬ 
city of worship, prepare the way for reunion in the convulsed, 
dismembered nation, and restore harmony among the de¬ 
scendants of Jacob, now discordant. 

Proceeding with his preparations, he bids the people dig a 
trench around the altar. He commands them to fill the 
trench with water, and pour water upon the sacrifice and 
the wood. It shall be made plain that a miracle has been 
wrought. There shall be no opportunity for delusion, and no 
room left for cavil. And now, the appointed hour of the 
evening sacrifice having come, Elijah reverently approaches 
the altar, and looking up to heaven, thus addresses the Al- 
13 


194 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


mighty, “ 0 Lord God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Israel, let 
it be known this day that Thou art God in Israel, and that I 
am Thy servant, and that I have done all these things at Thy 
word. Hear me, 0 Lord, hear me; that this people may 
know that Thou art the Lord God, and that Thou hast turned 
their hearts back again.” Then the fire of the Lord fell, and 
consumed the sacrifice, and the wood, and the stones, and the 
dust, and licked up the water that was in the trench. And 
when all the people saw it, they fell on their faces, and said, 
“The Lord, He is the God! The Lord, He is the God I” The 
great controversy is ended. The question of the land and of 
the age—is Baal or is Jehovah God ?—is decided, by an ap¬ 
peal to the ancient, the chainless, the impartial element of 
fire. It is the question of this age, too! Show us the fire of 
heaven, still burning and vestal, in any church, and it sufficeth 
us; for Christ came to send fire upon earth, and what will 
we if it have gone out in white and barren ashes ? The God 
that answereth by fire, answered Elijah, and the sun, His 
archer, loosened a ray to kindle the flame that was to witness 
to the one Supreme Jehovah. How glorious the prophet ap¬ 
pears on Carmel, meet pedestal for a statue so sublime! In 
all history there are few grander scenes or stories than this. 
On the one hand the solitary servant of Jehovah, accompanied 
by his one attendant, with his wild shaggy hair, his scanty 
garb and sheepskin cloak, but with calm dignity of demeanor 
and the minutest regularity of procedure, repairing the ruined 
altar of Jehovah. On the other hand the eight hundred and 
fifty prophets of Baal and Ashtaroth, doubtless in all the 
splendor of their vestments, with the wild din of their vain 
repetitions, and the maddened fury of their disappointed 
hopes; and the silent people surrounding all. 

The decision made, and the prophets of Baal slain, “Elijah 
said unto Ahab, Get thee up, eat and drink, for there is a 
sound of abundance of rain. So Ahab went up to eat and to 
drink, and Elijah went up to the top of Carmel; and he cast 


ELIJAH. 


195 


himself down upon the earth, and put his face between his 
knees, and said to his servant, Go np now, look toward the 
sea. And he went np, and looked and said, There is nothing* 
And he said, Go again, seven times. And it came to pass, at 
the seventh time, that he said, Behold, there ariseth a little 
cloud out of the sea, like a man’s hand. And he said, Go up, 
say unto Ahab, Prepare thy chariot, and get thee down, that 
the rain stop thee not. And it came to pass, in the mean¬ 
while, that the heaven was black with clouds and wind, 
and there was a great rain. And Ahab rode, and went to 
Jezreel. And the hand of the Lord was on Elijah; and he 
girded up his loins, and ran before Ahab to the entrance of 
Jezreel.” 

These vivid sentences bring before us the next act in this 
exciting drama. No sooner does the blood of the false 
prophets mingle with the brook Kishon, than Elijah sets him¬ 
self to procure rain. Three years and a half the heavens 
have been shut up from yielding a drop of water to the 
thirsty land of Israel. All vegetation is parched and burnt 
up; man and beast reduced to skeletons, and all flesh faded 
like the grass. Elijah longs earnestly now, that for the glory 
of God and the people’s good, the brazen skies may dissolve 
in rain, and the season of famine and distress terminate. For 
this purpose he must speak to God. The prayer of faith is 
to him what the staff was to Moses, who divided the Bed Sea 
and struck water from the flinty rock. He first relieves 
himself of the company of Ahab and his attendants, and it is 
a sad picture which the weak and wicked king presents, eat¬ 
ing and drinking, with an apathy almost incredible, upon the 
very heels of the sublime scenes enacted on the mountain, 
and in the very midst of the terrible slaughter of his own 
adherents. But while he is feasting, the prophet is praying. 
On Carmel’s summit, as in a solitary closet where all is calm 
and still, no unbidden guests follow him, and he communes 
uninterruptedly with the Lord—his servant meanwhile, from 


196 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


this lofty watch-tower surveying widely sea and land, and 
ready to give the first intelligence of the rising storm. Nor 
have they long to wait. Soon a little speck of vapor is seen. 
And then, one after another, dark thunder-clouds arise out of 
the sea; the heavens become black, the wind sets all the sea 
in motion, and roars through the forests, and a violent storm 
pours down upon the land. There is indeed “ abundance of 
rain.” O welcome streams, refreshing floods! The face of 
the earth is renewed, and all nature rejoices. A breath of 
life breathes over the fields; wood and meadow are clothed 
with new verdure, the birds resume their music in the 
branches, and man and beast and every living creature is re¬ 
suscitated. And this new life is poured abundantly upon the 
prophet. “ The hand of the Lord was upon Elijah.” His 
bodily powers were invigorated, so that across the plain to 
Jezreel, almost a score of miles, through all the torrents of 
rain and tempest, he outran the royal chariot; but with Arab 
instinct no less marked than his endurance, stopping at the 
“ entrance of Jezreel.” 

We can easily imagine Ahab hastily alighting from his 
chariot before the palace, and hurrying to the apartments of 
his proud, imperious queen, to announce the wonderful oc¬ 
currences which he has just witnessed. “The Tishbite has 
triumphed! Eire from heaven has confirmed his word. 
Upon his prayer, with mine own eyes, I have seen flames fall 
from the skies, consume the burnt-offering, the wood, the 
stones, and lick up the water in the trench. All the people 
can bear witness to it. They fell on their faces and cried 
out, as with one voice, that Jehovah is God. The priests of 
Baal are slain; Elijah and the people have destroyed them, 
and their blood is flowing in the brook Kishon. They were 
laughed at as liars and impotent deceivers. Their authority 
and their worship is gone forever. There is universal en¬ 
thusiasm for Elijah. He is a prophet of the living God. 
The miracle on Carmel has placed it beyond a doubt, and these 


ELIJAH. 


19T 


heavy rains completely confirm it. He has compelled clouds 
and rain from the brassy sky. He closed heaven and he has 
now opened it again.” 

But blackness gathers like a storm on the brow of the 
queen. And the weak king, whom the sacred historian 
speaks of as one “ whom Jezebel his wife stirred up,” soon 
begins to take another view of the wonders at Carmel, and 
of Elijah himself. Pliant like clay on the potter’s wheel, and 
capable of taking any form, he is always ready to be what 
she is pleased to make of him. And Jezebel is resolved on 
vengeance : She sends a message to the prophet: “So let 
the gods do to me, and more also, if I make not thy life as 
the life of one of them by to-morrow about this time.” And 
now we see the hero-prophet running for his life. His goal 
is the desert. On he flies through Benjamin and Judah. He 
will not halt, even in good King Jehoshaphat’s dominions. 
Joy nerved his powerful frame to-day, now fear drives him. 
He never stops till he gets to Beersheba, a hundred miles 
away. He seems to feel that all Israel, who were shouting 
his praises a few hours ago on Carmel, are now at his heels, 
and seeking his life. Beersheba is at the edge of the desert, 
but he is not safe there. He has tired out his servant with 
two or three days’ running, and the poor fellow cannot go 
any farther; but his master must get out into the wilderness 
“ a day’s journey ” before he feels secure. 

There he is at last, thoroughly fagged out in body and 
mind. He sits down under a broom-bush—a scanty shade in 
the hot sand. “ And he requested for himself that he might 
die, and said, It is enough; now, 0 Lord, take away my life 
for I am not better than my fathers.” Perhaps he meant the 
old Israelites who died in that desert six hundred years be 
fore. In his despondency he thinks that his existence is 
useless, and he feels unable any longer to bear the burden of 
life. Strange that Elijah should have become so weak and 
faint-hearted, who seemed invincible in the armor of his 


198 


TROPIIETS OF THE BIBLE. 


faith, and superior to every human weakness. Just now on 
Carmel, like the commander who cuts down the bridge be¬ 
hind him, leaving himself no alternative but death or victory, 
he taunted his adversaries, making them gnash their teeth 
nnd cut themselves with knives, but insuring for himself a 
terrible end, in case of failure, from his exasperated foes. 
But now this man, so stern, so iron, so independent, gives 
way to a fit of petulance and querulous despondency, and how 
do we account for it ? First, it is evident that physical ex¬ 
haustion has a great deal to do with his depression. He is 
faint, hungry, travel-worn. And much that we call spiritual 
-depression has its seat in the body. The mind and the ani¬ 
mal organism are closely allied. If you want to build up 
yourself in holy joy, among the means you are to employ is 
■to expel bad humors from your body. Above all, let not 
those who are by nature of a melancholy 
constitution, or who have become so by 
disease, “ write bitter things against them¬ 
selves,” and imagine themselves sinners 
above all others. This morbid tempera¬ 
ment and tendency is to be fought against. 
“ The joy of the Lord is your strength.” 
More cheerful views will aid you in re¬ 
sisting sin. Use all means for the restor¬ 
ation of physical health and elasticity. 
But if your melancholy is incurable, if the phantom of de¬ 
spondency cannot be exorcised, it is well to recollect that it is 
a phantom, and not something which renders you guilty and 
vile in the sight of God, and obnoxious to His wrath. With 
patience await the good pleasure of God, and the day of your 
deliverance from the clog of a diseased body. 

See how God treats the prophet’s case. First, He sends 
him sweet and refreshing sleep. Like a little child, Elijah 
cried himself to sleep. Tired nature asserts herself, and brings 
rest and renovation for body and mind. But this rest is 









ELIJAH. 


199 


God’s gift 11 So lie givetli his beloved sleep.” The burden 
of life is lightened for the prophet. The inward tempest of 
his soul subsides; grief and uneasiness depart; tormenting 
thoughts give place to sweet and spiritual rest. And so it is 
with us all. In the midst of the desert our gracious God pro¬ 
vides for us a place of repose. The storm does not rage in¬ 
cessantly ; the peaceful hours intervene unawares, and the 
burden upon our shoulders becomes for a while a resting pil¬ 
low under our heads, and the Keeper of Israel sends us slum¬ 
ber in the midst of our sorrows. 

And now Elijah, sleeping peacefully as in a royal pavilion, 
is touched by some one, and awakes. He looks, and behold 
a cake baking on the coals, and a jar of water; to this day all 
a Bedouin requires. There isn’t much more of Elijah now 
than the physical man. He eats and drinks and goes to 
sleep again. In the morning he is nudged again, and finds 
his breakfast ready, and pursues his journey—a hundred 
miles of bleak desert to Horeb. Food, rest and exercise are 
prescribed for him by the Great Physician. 

And next Jehovah calms his mind by the healing influ¬ 
ences of nature. The hurricane sweeps the sky, and the 
earthquake shakes the ground. The heavens are lighted up 
till they are one mass of fire. All this expresses and reflects 
Elijah’s feelings. The mode in which nature soothes us is 
by finding meeter and nobler utterance for our feelings than 
we can find in words; by expressing and exalting them. In 
expression there is relief, and Elijah’s spirit rose with the 
spirit of the storm. 

“ On Horeb’s rock the prophet stood, 

The Lord before him passed; 

A hurricane in angry mood, 

Swept by him strong and fast; 

* The forest fell before its force, 

The rocks were shivered in its course— 

God was not in the blast 


200 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


’Twas but the whirlwind of His breath, 

Announcing danger, wreck and death. 

“ It ceased. The air grew mute, a cloud 
Came, muffling up the sun ; 

When through the mountain, deep and loud, 

An earthquake thundered on; 

The frighted eagle sprang in air, 

The wolf ran howling from his lair— 

God was not in the storm; 

*Twas but the rolling of His car, 

The trampling of His steeds from far.” 

And now all these manifestations of Divine power are ended. 
Tranquillity spreads gradually, like the stillness of the sanc¬ 
tuary, over all nature; and it seems as if every hill and dale, 
yea, the whole earth and skies, lay in silent homage at the 
footstool of Eternal Majesty. The very mountains seem to 
worship; the whole scene is hushed to profound peace; and 
now is heard 

“ A still, small voice, so shrill and clear 
That all in heaven and earth might hear: 

It spoke of peace, it spoke of love; 

It spoke as angels speak above— 

And God was in the voice.” 

There had been spiritual as well as physical causes of the 
prophet’s depression, and these are met, and by communion 
with God, Elijah is strengthened. He had been bitterly dis¬ 
appointed in the result of the trial on Carmel. The people 
having with one voice acknowledged Jehovah, he supposed 
false worship was forever put down, idolatry at an end in 
Israel, and true piety about to find a place in the public 
heart. He thought the aim of his life, the transformation of 
Israel into a kingdom of God, was now accomplished. But 
in a single day all this bright picture was annihilated, and 
he was an exile fleeing from the vengeance of fhe idolatrous 
and still powerful queen. And passing rapidly from the 
pinnacle of hope to the extreme abyss of despondency, he 


ELIJAH. 


201 


believes bimself the only worshiper of the true God among 
the millions of Israel. But now God assures him that there 
are seven thousand in Israel who have not bowed the knee 
to Baal. These, at least, have been braced and encouraged 


by his example, and 
perhaps have silently 
blessed him for their 
own courage and ability 
to stand fast in the day 
of trial. And here, 
mainly, was Elijah’s suc¬ 
cess, and not in his 
great public triumphs. 
His usefulness is to be 
measured by the obedi- 



BATTLE-AXES. 


ence of the seven thousand, and not by the shouts upon Car¬ 
mel. And so the prophet, the spokesman for God , in 
every age, is not to be accounted successful because of listening 
crowds and the approval of the religious world. Ministerial 
success lies in altered lives and obedient, humble hearts; un¬ 
seen work recognized in the judgment-day. 

But there was here a revelation to Elijah, not. only con¬ 
cerning himself and the world, but concerning God also. He 
had shared in those outward manifestations of Divine power, 
accompanying his mission, which belonged to the Old Dis¬ 
pensation, and indicated the Divine presence and favor—the 
fire on Carmel, the storm from the Mediterranean, the aveng¬ 
ing sword on the banks of the Kishon. He is now told that 
in all these, in the highest sense, God was not. Not in these, 
but in the still small gentle whisper of conscience and soli¬ 
tude, was the surest token that God was near to him. Not 
in his mission, grand and majestic as it was, would after ages 
so clearly discern the Divine inspiration, as in the still small 
voice of Justice and Truth that breathed through the writ¬ 
ings of the later prophets, for whom he was preparing the 






202 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE 


way, Hosea, Amos, Isaiah and Jeremiah. Hot in the ven¬ 
geance which through Hazael and Jehu was to sweep away 
the house of Omir, so much as in the discerning Love which 
was to spare the seven thousand; not in the strong east wind 
that parted the Bed Sea, or the fire that swept the top of 
Sinai, or the earthquake that shook down the walls of Jeri¬ 
cho, would God be brought so near to man, as in the still 
small voice of the child at Bethlehem, as in the ministrations 
of Him whose cry was not heard in the streets, in the awful 
stillness of the Cross, in the never-failing order of Providence, 
in the silent, insensible influence of the good deeds and good 
words of God and of man. Thus the revelation at Horeb is 
at one with the revelation in the Hew Testament, the revela¬ 
tion in the person and life and works and death of Immanuel. 
We have a Gospel of Elijah. He, the furthest removed of 
all the prophets from the Evangelical Spirit and character, 
has yet enshrined in the heart of his story the most forcible 
of protests against the hardness of Judaism, the noblest anti¬ 
cipation of the breadth and depth of Christianity. 

In the communication of the Lord to Elijah, three com¬ 
mands were laid upon him—to anoint Hazael to be king over 
Syria, Jehu to be king over Israel, and Elisha, the son of 
Shaphat, to be his own successor. The last commission only 
was to be executed by him in person; the other two were re¬ 
served for Elisha to accomplish. He soon found the latter, plow¬ 
ing in the rich pastures of the Jordan. He “ passed over to him,” 
and slipping his mantle from his shoulders threw it over 
Elisha. This was a summons equivalent to that which our 
Saviour addressed to His disciples, “ Leave all and follow me I” 
It was more than this, for it implied the fact that he was 
to succeed the man who called him. It was his investiture 
with present heirship to that very mantle, and the assurance 
of his future possession of it. In the East, a reputed saint, 
when dying, indicates his successor by bequeathing to him 
the mantle, the symbol of his spiritual power; and although 


ELIJAH. 


203 


that mantle may be dirty, patched, tattered, threadbare, it is 
deemed of higher value than kingly robes; and the older it 
is the more precious it becomes. Elisha understood the sign, 
and was obedient to the heavenly call; but it is well to notice 
that notwithstanding his unquestionable talents he had hith¬ 
erto contented himself with the humble avocation of a hus¬ 
bandman. How many, with similar endowments, would 
have thought themselves too good for the plow, and marked 
out for a wider sphere of life than that of a farmer. Their 
gifts must be employed for the good of the world, their light 
must not be hid under a bushel, they must go forth into the 
field of public labor, to enlighten and guide mankind! Ho 
such ambitious thoughts had entered the mind of Elisha. 
His pretensions went not beyond his plow and his husbandry ; 
he saw his vocation in these quiet occupations, and “ minded 
not high things.” And his disposition is a striking and most 
beautiful contrast to what is often met with among the pro¬ 
fessed followers of God. Under the cover of religious zeal, 
or through mistaken notions of duty, there is a great deal 
of presumptuous and self-complacent pushing forward in the 
Church, and ignorance and self-conceit too often go hand in 
hand. We are undoubtedly to let our light shine before 
men, but every one should do so in the situation in which 
Providence has placed him. Hot thy lips only, or principally, 
O Christian, but thy life is to be the lamp. It is sad when 
impudence is at a premium and modesty at a discount, when 
self-assertion is the road to success, and diffidence and self¬ 
distrust and the wish not to be conspicuous are held to be 
evidences of lukewarmness in religion, a low grade of piety, 
and a want of interest in the cause of Christ. Happy would 
it be for Zion if that vain activity which is not of God but 
of the world, were confined to the world, and not brought 
within that sacred organization whose distinguishing charac¬ 
teristic is its spirituality, and which can only be truly 
advanced by the use of spiritual means and appliances. 


204 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


Elisha was the son of a substantial land-owner, as appears 
by the fact that although the prophet found him personally 
engaged in the field, he Tyns plowing with no less than twelve 
yoke of oxen. To this day in Syria a man’s wealth is esti¬ 
mated by the number of plows which he works, or by the 
number of yokes of oxen he employs in drawing them. 
There were probably a number of servants at work in the 
field with Elisha, and to these and to the persons who had 
come from town, he gave an extemporaneous feast by slaying 
a yoke of oxen, and burning the implements to dress the 
meat. He then took his departure with Elijah, who must 
have been much comforted in obtaining such a companion 
and helper. These personal followers and attendants upon 
holy or learned men are a class well known in the East. 
Though persons of some consideration in the world, they 
feel glad and honored in being allowed to discharge for their 
master the light servile duties which his habits of life require, 
but which they would feel it a degradation to render to any 
other man. 

Until Elisha became distinguished on his own account, he 
was known as “ Elisha who poured water on the hands of 
Elijah.” The Orientals, in washing, never if they can help 
it dip their hands in water unless it be running water, as 
they abhor the idea of using water 
already soiled. To pour the 
water upon the hands from a 
vessel, however, requires the as¬ 
sistance of another, and this is 
skin bottles. usually the office of a servant, 

and the most frequent one he has to render to the person of 
his master, which renders it appropriate as the description 
of a personal attendant. Friends and fellow-travelers, how¬ 
ever, often pour water on each other’s hands in the absence 
of a servant, as it is inconvenient to fill one hand repeatedly 
from a vessel held in the other, and requiring to be laid down 




ELIJAH. 


205 


frequently and taken up again. No one washes thus who can 
find any one willing to pour water on his hands. In-doors, 
an ewer and basin of copper are commonly used. The water 
poured from the ewer upon the hands, falls into the basin held 
below them, which commonly has a perforated bottom 
through which the used water passes out of sight. 

About the timp when Elijah called Elisha and consecrated 
him to be a prophet, a terrible war broke out between Syria 
and Israel. The Syrian king, Ben-hadad, with an enormous 
host, aided by thirty-two tributary allies, took the field 
against Ahab, but was defeated and compelled to terms of 
peace. Where Elijah abode during these tumultuous times 
we are not informed. It 



is only after the disturb¬ 
ances are over that we 
find him re-appearing in 
the narrative, and this 
as an embassador of God, 
sent to reprove Ahab. 
The crime which the lat¬ 
ter had committed against 
Naboth was the occa¬ 


BOTTLES. 


sion of the prophet’s mission. 

After the war was finished, Ahab had retired to his coun 
try residence at Jezreel, the Windsor of Israel. This palace 
was situated on the heights at the western extremity of Mt 
Gilboa—a fine site for the royal mansion, commanding a noble 
view, overlooking on the west the whole of the great plain to 
the long ridge of Carmel, and extending in the opposite di¬ 
rection down the broad, low valley to Bethshean, and toward 
the mountains beyond the Jordan. To pass away the time, 
Ahab amused himself with beautifying and enlarging his 
sumptuous palace and gardens. Adjoining the latter was a 
vineyard, which belonged to the paternal inheritance of Na¬ 
both. This the king wished to purchase, and he offered the 






206 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


proprietor an exchange of land, or any price that he might 
choose to ask for it. But Naboth, strong in his indefeasible 
right of property, declined to part with it at all, on the ground 
that he could not and would not alienate a property which he 
had derived from his fathers, and which it behooved him to 
transmit to his descendants. He seems to have regarded the 
proposal with a kind of religious horror: “ The Lord forbid 
it me, that I should give the inheritance of my fathers unto 
thee.” 

At the original occupation of Canaan, every family had a 
portion of land assigned it by lot. This remained in the 
family, and could only be legally alienated for a term of years, 
ending at the next jubilee year, when all the lands which 
had been thus leased reverted to the original owners, or to 
their heirs. But the jubilee year had ceased to be observed, 
and it is likely that many sold their lands in perpetuity. It 
is true this would be illegal, but few heirs would stand up to 
assert their claims to lands held by kings and other high per¬ 
sonages. Thus by purchase, and by means of the estates of 
persons attainted of treason, which lapsed to the king, the 
crown was enabled to acquire a considerable landed property, 
which would have been impossible, had due attention been 
paid to the law of Moses, by which the land was strictly tied 
up in private hands, in order that none should have too much, 
nor any too little. The practices by which “ field was added 
to field” were severely reprehended by the prophets. 

Ahab seems to have made no effort to secure by violence 
the land which Naboth had refused to sell. But his own 
garden, in which he had hitherto taken so much pleasure, lost 
all value and beauty in his eyes, since the nice plan he had 
formed for its improvement was balked by his neighbor. We 
should not wonder if he decapitated with his staff half the 
flowers in his garden, while this fit of ill-humor was upon 
him. At last he betook himself to bed, and lay with his face 
to the wall, refusi.i to take any food. This pitiable display 


ELIJAH. 


20T 


of childish fretfulness is more than we would have ex¬ 
pected even from Ahab. No wonder such a man as this was 
a mere tool in the hands of his wife. And perhaps, relying 
upon her fertility of resource and power of action, he indulged 
his ill-humor on purpose to draw her attention to the matter. 
As soon as she heard of his strange behavior, she came to 
him, and soon learned the cause of his affliction, when she 
exclaims, with indignant surprise, “ Dost thou now govern 
the kingdom of Israel ?” But she did not disappoint the con¬ 
fidence which the king was accustomed to put in her resources; 
for she added, “ Arise and eat bread, and let thine heart be 
merry, for I will give thee the vineyard .” How ? Ahab did 
not care to inquire. He only knew she had said it, and 
would do it; and that was enough for him. He gave her 
authority to act as she pleased in the matter, by entrusting 
to her his signet, which gave her the power of issuing in his 
name whatever orders she liked. We are to remember that 
in those days (and the custom continues in the East), in giv¬ 
ing validity to documents, names were not signed by the 
hand in writing, but impressed by a seal on which the name 
was engraved. Hence the importance which is attached to 
the signet throughout the sacred books. 

Thus armed, Jezebel sent orders that the elders and nobles 
of the town should proclaim a fast, which was wont to be 
done when any great calamity had occurred, or any dreadful 
crime had been committed. She requires them to assemble 
the people, and to have two lawless characters ready to give 
false evidence against Naboth, and accuse him of having ut¬ 
tered blasphemies and curses against God and the king. This 
being done, Naboth was condemned unheard, dragged out of 
the town, and cruelly stoned to death. And when the bloody 
execution was accomplished, Jezebel went triumphantly to 
Ahab and said: “ Arise, take possession of the vineyard of 
Naboth, the Jezreelite, which he refused to give thee for 
money; for Naboth is not alive, but dead.” The estate had 


208 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


lapsed to the crown by his execution on the charge of treason, 
consisting in cursing the king; for which reason that charge 
was added to the other, which of itself was capital. 

Instead of shrinking with horror from the deed, Ahab, 
now that it was done, accepted it with all its consequences, 
by hastening to take possession of his blood-stained acquisi¬ 
tion, with admiration, doubtless, of his wife’s decision of 
character and hardihood, qualities which inspire such souls aa 
his with deep reverence. Excuse is sometimes made for him 
as not an essentially wicked man, but only a weak one, over¬ 
borne by the powerful will of a resolute woman. But all 
wickedness is weakness, and is not all weakness wickedness, 
and most of all in a king ? He to whose care the welfare of 
a nation has been entrusted, has no right to be weak. The 
weakness of Ahab consisted in an effeminate, ease-loving, in¬ 
dolent character, indisposed to exertion, unless thoroughly 
roused by some awakening stimulus. He was such a man 
as would rather allow what he feels to be wrong, for the 
sake of a quiet life, than take the trouble of asserting and 
maintaining what he knows to be right. To battle against, to 
shake off this sloth of temper, which made him the tool of 
others, and rendered him impotent for all good, was his duty 
as a man, and ten-fold his duty as a king; and to neglect that 
duty was wickedness, was ruin; and it ended, as such neglect 
does, in bringing down upon him ten-fold the trouble and dis¬ 
turbance of ease which he had striven to avoid. “ Anything 
for an easy life,” seems to have been Ahab’s rule of conduct. 
But a ruler has no right to an easy life. It is hard work to 
be a king, and especially in an Eastern country, where many 
duties of decision, of judgment, and of action, devolve upon 
the sovereign, which in Western countries are turned over to 
his advisers and ministers. 

Jezebel was just the woman to manage such a man, and 
she soon found how to manage Ahab as she pleased, and to 
become in fact the reigning sovereign of Israel, while on him 


ELIJAH. 


209 


devolved the public responsibility of her acts. It was not by 
imperious temper, though she was imperious, or by palpable 
domineering, that she managed this. No. She made herself 
necessary to him, necessary to his ease, his comfort, his pleas¬ 
ures. She worked for him; she planned for him; she decided 
for him. She saved him a world of trouble. She taught him 
to consider the strength of her will necessary to supply the 
weakness of his own, necessary to save him the labor of ex¬ 
ertion and thought. Prompt in decision, ready in resource, 
quick in invention, ruthless in action, she saw her way at 
once to the point at which she aimed, and would cut with a 
sharp stroke through knotty matters which the king shrank 
from the labor of untying. Thus, as in the case before us, 
she was often able to secure for her husband the object of his 
desires, which he himself shrunk from pursuing or despaired 
of obtaining; and in accepting it from her hands, he cared 
not to inquire too nicely whether it were stained with blood, 
and whether it were heaping on his head coals of fire, which 
would one day consume him. 

And now, elated with joy, Ahab goes down in state to take pos¬ 
session of the coveted garden. It is deserted and silent, but 
the grassy plats are green, and the clustering vines rich with 
the promise of fruit. In kingly pride and pomp, followed by 
his attendants, he enters the inclosure and surveys with de¬ 
light his new possession. The dead can make no remon¬ 
strance ; treason clears away all title, and he is already plan¬ 
ning the improvements and decorations that will make it fit 
to become a part of the royal grounds. The perfumed air 
stirs softly the fresh leaves that quiver in the sunlight, and 
the trees make grateful shadows on every side. With heart 
free from anxiety, he is strolling along the sheltered, silent 
walks, when suddenly an apparition obstructs the path. A 
solitary figure, with snowy beard, and long waving locks, and 
a hairy mantle over his shoulders, stands silent and unawed 
before him. And well the king remembers Carmel, and the 
14 


210 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


girt and glorious homicide who mingled the blood of the 
false prophets with the waters of Kishon. What a picture 
they present in the quiet garden! On the one side stands the 
monarch, royally appareled, and behind him his gorgeously - 
attired retinue; on the other that silent, solitary, coarse-clad 
figure. Had a thunderbolt fallen from the sky, the king could 
not have been more astonished. He had hoped that Jezebel 
had frightened away this unwelcome guest forever. If not 
dead, he thought him far enough away beyond the mountains. 
But lo, he stands before him like an apparition from another 
world; nay, like the ghost of the murdered Naboth. An¬ 
ticipating the prophet’s message, he is the first to speak, 
“Hast thou found me, 0 mine enemy?” “I have found 
thee,” replied this angel of his doom, in tones that sent the 
blood back on his heart. Then follows the curse, in terms 
fearful to any Oriental, peculiarly terrible to a Jew, and most 
of all significant to the apostate prince of the northern 
kingdom. 

Ahab was not, like his wife, utterly hardened. The fearful 


words of the prophet struck 
him down, and humbled him 
completely. He rent his 
clothes, he assumed the habit 
of a mourner, he “ fasted and 
lay in sackcloth, and went 
softly.” His misery was real, 
and the Lord had some com- 



l passion on him ; for the de- 


i struction of his house was de- 
^ ferred, that his eye might 
be spared that doleful sight. 


BACTRIAN CAMEL. 


But his personal doom was accomplished three years after, 
when he was slain in battle against Ben-hadad. His death 
was kingly, and became him better than his life. When 
mortally wounded, he directed his chariot to be quietly driven 






ELIJAH. 


211 


aside to have his wounds dressed; and then returned to the 
battle, supported in his chariot, until the evening, when he 
died. His body was brought to Samaria, and when his 
chariot and armor were washed in the pool of Samaria, the 
dogs licked up his blood as they had done that of Naboth 
at Jezreel. Thus the words of the prophet, “ In the place 
where dogs licked the blood of Naboth, shall dogs lick thy 
blood, even thine,” were virtually fulfilled in himself, while 
they were literally accomplished in his son Jehoram, to 
whom his doom was in some sense transferred, on his 
humbling himself before the Lord. 

The next appearance of Elijah is in connection with the 
illness of Ahaziah, who succeeded his father Ahab in the throne 
of Israel, but did not reign more than two years. He was 
fully under the influence of his mother, and sanctioned the 
idolatries she had intro¬ 
duced. His death was the 
result of a disaster that be¬ 
fell him, described as a fall 
through a lattice that was 
in his upper chamber. It 
is probable that the word 
rendered lattice means a 
rail, and in leaning against 
the rail upon the inner side 
of the house-top, it gave 
way, and he fell into the 
court below. His injuries were so serious that he sent to an 
oracle or shrine of Baal, at the Philistine town of Ekron, to 
learn the issue of his illness. But the oracle is nearer at 
hand than the distant Ekron. An intimation from God is 
given to the prophet, probably at that time inhabiting one 
of the recesses of Carmel, and, as on the former occasions, he 
suddenly appears on the path of the messengers, without 
preface or inquiry utters his message of death, and as rap- 





212 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


idly disappears. The men turn back with the fatal message, 
and describe the appearance of the person who had met 
them, “ a hairy man and girt with a girdle of leather about 
his loins.” The king had probably seen him during his 
father’s life, and at all events that wild-looking, hairy man, 
with his shaggy mantle and leather girdle, is a picture quite 
familiar to him. He says at once, “ It is Elijah the Tishbite.” 
But instead of trembling at the prediction of his certain 
death, he sends a troop of fifty men to capture the prophet. 
They find him sitting solitary and alone on Mount Carmel. 
This is a spot sacred to him, for here God set His seal upon 
him in the sight of all the people. As he sits wrapped in 
meditation, he sees the soldiers winding through the vale 
below, their lances glittering in the sunlight, on their way to 
take him prisoner. He knows from whom they come, and 
what they want, but he takes no steps to escape. Serene and 
composed, he awaits their approach. The captain calls to 
him, “Thou man of God, the king has said come down.” 
Years ago, at his request, fire descended on this very moun¬ 
tain, and consumed the sacrifice ; so now at his bidding new 
forks of flame leap from the sky and stretch the whole fifty 
in a ghastly row upon the earth. The king, unappalled, sends 
a second party which share the same fate. The altered tone 
of the leader of the third company brings Elijah down. And 
perhaps his cheerful going with this last troop is meant to 
teach, that while judgments are for the wicked, yet the door 
of mercy will swing open for those who becomingly approach 
it. Impending ruin may be averted by timely repentance 
and earnest entreaty. Arrived at the palace, the fearless 
prophet repeats in person to the king the words of rebuke 
and death which he had sent by the messengers, and is suf¬ 
fered to go away unharmed. Ahaziah, dying soon after, is 
succeeded by his brother Jehoram. 

The closing transaction of Elijah’s life introduces us to a 
locality heretofore unconnected with him. It was at Gilgal 


ELIJAH. 


213 


that the prophet received the Divine intimation that his 
departure was at hand. He endeavors to persuade Elisha to 
remain behind, while he goes on an errand for Jehovah. 
“ Tarry here, I pray thee; for the Lord hath sent me to 
Bethel.” But Elisha will not so easily give up his master. 
“As the Lord liveth, and as thy soul liveth, I will not leave 
thee.” Together they visit the schools of the prophets, and 
at each place there has been a heavenly intimation that their 
master is to be taken away. The students leave their rooms, 
and gather at the doors, and gaze in wonder till the majestic 
figure is lost in the distance. Elijah expresses again and again 
his desire to proceed alone, but Elisha refuses to be separated 
from him, and his affectionate persistence conquers. The two 
set off across the undulating plain of burning sand to the dis¬ 
tant river. Fifty men of the sons of the prophets ascend the 
abrupt heights behind the town of Jericho, to watch what 
happens in the distance. Talking as they go, the prophet’s 
eye waxing brighter, and his step quicker, and his port loftier, 
they approach the stream, and stand on the shelving bank 
beside its swift, brown current. But they are not to stop 
even here. It is as if the aged Gileadite cannot rest till he 
again sets foot on his own side of the river. He rolls up his 
mantle, as into a staff, and with his old energy strikes the 
waters, and they divide hither and thither and permit them 
to go over on dry ground. Resuming their conversation, they 
go but a little way till there appears a chariot of fire, and 
mounting it, as a king his car, the prophet is carried in a 
rushing whirlwind upward, his mantle falling, and Elisha 
exclaiming, “ My father, my father, the chariot of Israel, and 
the horsemen thereof!” We may not follow his triumphal, 
progress, but doubtless as like a prince he had mounted the 
chariot, so with prince-like majesty did he direct the fiery 
steeds, gaze around on the peopled wilderness of worlds, out¬ 
strip the comet’s glowing wheel, rise above the sun, and the 
sun’s sun, and every system from which the sun’s system is^ 


214 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


visible, cross the firmaments of space, pass through the gates 
into the city, enter amid the rising, welcoming, and wonder¬ 
ing first-born of heaven, and at last merge in the engulfing 
glory of the great white throne. 

Such honor have not all God’s saints, and surely here the 
dignity of the prophetic office came to its height, when in the 
fullness of its discharge it swelled up into heaven, and when 
he, who, in the grandeur of his commission, had walked 
among men as a being of another race, was lifted up before 
his time, like a pearl from the dust, and added to an immor¬ 
tal and sinless company. 

A strange and stormy life was that which thus melted into 
the light of heaven. The tempest, fire, and whirlwind accom¬ 
pany and symbolize his mission. We see his shaggy form 
outlined against the sky on Mt. Carmel, bringing down the 


fire from heaven, and the 
storm from the deep. 
From thence he is trans¬ 
ferred to Horeb, where 
he stands wrapped in the 
whirlwind and the fire 
and the earthquake. We 
look again, and seated on 
Mount Carmel, he is 
bringing the forked 
lightning from heaven 
on those seeking to take 
him. He disappears 
from sight, and we 



CANDLESTICK. 


scarcely see him again till, seated in a chariot of fire, he is 
mounting the heavens to return no more, until called back to 
earth to take part in the glorious scenes upon the Mount of 
Transfiguration. 

Elijah has been entitled “ the grandest and the most roman¬ 
tic character that Israel ever produced.” Certainly there is 


ELIJAH. 


215 


no personage in the Old Testament whose career is more viv¬ 
idly portrayed, or who exercises on us a more remarkable 
fascination. His rare, sudden and brief appearances, his un¬ 
daunted courage, his fiery zeal, the brilliancy of his triumphs, 
the pathos of his despondency, the glory of his departure, and 
the calm beauty of his re-appearance on the holy mount, 
throw such a halo of brightness around him as is surpassed 
by none of his compeers in the sacred story. And unless it 
be Moses, it is doubtful if so much of thrilling interest at¬ 
taches to any other Scripture character. The parallel is most 
striking between these two greatest of the prophets. Both 
received visions on Horeb, to each of them God appeared there 
in fire, earthquakes, and other forms of grandeur and sublimity. 
Both resorted to the wilderness, fasted forty days, were sent 
on embassies to rebellious kings, dispensed miraculous food, 
quenched the drought of Israel, were zealous for the exter¬ 
mination of idolatry, divided the waters, and finished their 
glorious labors near the banks of the Jordan, not in but over¬ 
looking the earthly Canaan, when summoned upward to the 
heavenly one. What one effects by his rod, the other accom¬ 
plishes by his mantle. The body of the one is hidden, the 
body of the other is translated. And they both, and they 
only, revisit the earth in the body, and stand glorified with 
their Lord upon Tabor. 

But in tracing this parallel, we cannot forget that Elijah in 
many respects is unique among the characters of the Bible, 
and that in some he overtops even the vast proportions of 
the great law-giver and founder of the Hebrew nation. 
“ Alone, alone, alone,”—so thrice over is the word emphat¬ 
ically repeated—the loftiest, sternest spirit of the true faith 
raised up face to face with the proudest and fiercest spirit of 
the old Asiatic paganism, Elijah rose np against Jezebel. 
And so he stands alone in many senses among the pro¬ 
phets. Hursed in the bosom of Israel, the prophetical 
portion of the chosen people, vindicating the true religion 


216 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


from the nearest danger of overthrow, setting at defiance, by 
invisible power, the whole forces of the Israelitish kingdom, 
he reached a height certainly only equaled by Moses and 
Samuel, in the traditions of his country. And he is the 
prophet for whose return in later years his countrymen have 
looked with most eager hope. The last prophet of the Old 
Dispensation clung to this consolation in the decline of the 
State. In the Gospel history we find this expectation con¬ 
stantly excited in each successive appearance of a new 
prophet. It was a fixed belief of the Jews that he had ap¬ 
peared again and again as an Arabian merchant, to wise and 
good rabbis at their prayers or on their journeys. He is 
supposed to be present at circumcisions, and a seat is kept 
vacant for him. Passover after passover, the Jews of our 
own day place the paschal cup on the table, and set the door 
wide open, believing that that is the moment when Elijah 
will reappear. When goods are found and no owner comes, 
■when difficulties arise and no solution appears, the answer is, 
“Put them by till Elijah comes.” 

He gave the whole order a new impulse, both in form and 
spirit, such as it had not had since the death of Samuel. The 
companies of the prophets now reappear, bound by a still 
closer connection with Elijah than they had had with Samuel. 
Then they were “ companies, bands, of prophets; ” now they are 
“sons, children, of the prophets; ” and Elijah first and Elisha 
afterward, appeared as the “ Abbot,” the “ Father in God,” of 
the whole community. And yet he was not so much a pro¬ 
phetic teacher, as the precursor of prophetic teachers. As 
his likeness in the Christian era came to prepare the way for 
One greater than himself, so Elijah came to prepare the way 
for the close succession of prophets, who, for the next hundred 
years, sustained both Israel and Judah by hopes and promises 
before unknown. 

His stern seclusion is reproduced in John the Baptist, and 
in him is always contrasted with the social, gentle character 


ELIJAH 


21T 


of Christ. He, like the Baptist, “ came neither eating nor 
drinking.” He, like John’s disciples, “fasted oft.” He was 
the original type of the hermit, the monk, the Puritan. The 
barefooted order of Carmelites, not indeed by historical but 
by spiritual descent, may well claim him as their founder. 
But he is not the type of ordinary Christians. Although 
“ among them that were born of woman ” in old time “ there 
were none greater than ” he and the prophet who came in his 
spirit and power, as the forerunner of the Hew Dispensation, 
yet, “ notwithstanding, the least in the kingdom of heaven is 
greater than they.” When the two apostles appealed to the 
example of Elijah, “ to call down fire from heaven,” the Mas¬ 
ter “ rebuked them and said, ye know not what spirit ye 
are of.” 

The other prophets, Moses, Samuel, Elisha, Isaiah, were 
constantly before the eyes of their countrymen. But Elijah 
they saw only by partial and momentary glimpses. He be¬ 
longed to no special place. The very name of his birthplace 
is disputed, for we stand in doubt of the meaning of Tishbite. 
“ There was no nation or kingdom ” to which Ahab had not 
sent to find him, “ but behold, they found him not.” As soon 
as he was seen, “the breath of the Lord carried him away, 
whither, they knew not.” He was as if constantly in the 
hand of God. “ As the Lord liveth, before whom I stand,” 
was his habitual expression—a slave constantly waiting to do 
his Master’s bidding. For an instant he was to be seen here 
and there at spots far apart; sometimes in the ravine of the 
Cherith in the Jordan valley, sometimes in the forests of Car¬ 
mel ; now on the sea-shore of Zidon at Zarephath ; now in the 
wilderness of Horeb, in the distant south ; then on the top of 
some lonely height on the way to Ekron; then snatched away 
“ on some mountain or some valley,” in the desert of the 
Jordan. He was in his life-time what he still is in the tradi¬ 
tions of the Eastern Church, the prophet of the mountains. 
And not unnaturally the Mussulman traditions confound him 


218 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


with the mysterious being, u the Immortal One,” the Eternal 
Wanderer, who appears ever and anon, to set right the 
wrongs of earth, and repeat the experience of ages past. And 
medieval alchemists and magicians strove to trace up their 
dark arts to Elijah, the Tishbite, as the father of alchemy. 
Such a hold has he taken upon the imaginations of Jew, 
Moslem and Christian, and alike of the evil and the good. 


He was the great representative of the tribes beyond the 
Jordan. Their wild and secluded character is his no less. 
Wandering, as we have seen, over the hills of Palestine, with 



JEZREEL. 


no rest or fixed habitation—fleet as the wind, when the hand 
of the Lord was upon him, and he ran before the chariot of 
Ahab from Carmel to Jezreel—he was like the heroes of his 
own tribe in Gad, in David’s life, who swam the Jordan in 
flood-time, “ whose faces were as the faces of lions, and whose 
feet were as swift as the roes upon the mountains; ” like the 
Bedouins from the same region of the present day, who run 
with unwearied feet by the side of the traveler’s camel, and 







ELIJAH. 


219 


whose strange forms are seen for a moment behind rock or 
tree, in city or field, and then vanish again into their native 
wilderness. He was like them, too, in outward appearance, 
with his long shaggy hair, his girdle of hide, and his rough 
sheep-skin mantle. 

These characteristics of the Arab life were dignified but 
not destroyed by his high prophetic mission. And the fact 
that this mission was entrusted not to a dweller in royal city 
or prophetic school, but to a genuine child of the deserts 
and forests of Gilead, is in exact accordance with the dispen¬ 
sations of Providence in other times. So the unity of God 
was asserted of old by the wandering chief from Ur of the 
Chaldees; by the Arabian shepherd at Sinai; and by another 
Arabian shepherd, in later ages, at Mecca and Medina. So 
came John, the son of Zachariah, in the same wilderness 
whence Elijah came, and whence he finally disappeared, sus¬ 
tained by the wild and scanty fare of the desert, clothed in a 
like rough and scanty garb, calling the nation to repentance 
by the same strange appearance, and by the same simple 
preaching. So, in later times, the Anchorites of Egypt and of 
Russia have come forth from their solitudes with a startling 
effect, which nothing else could have produced, to call kings 
and nations to a sense of their guilt, and of their duty to God 
and man. 

According to the Jewish legends, Elijah at his birth was 
wrapped in swaddling bands of fire, and fed with flames. 
During the whole of his course, “ he rose up as a fire, and his 
word blazed as a torch.” And as in its fiery force and energy, 
so in its mystery, the end corresponded with the beginning. 
He appeared in the history we know not whence ; he is gone 
in like manner. As of Moses, so of Elijah, “ no man know- 
eth his resting-place unto this day.” 

The depth of the impression which he made upon the 
mind of his nation may be judged from the belief which, as 
we have stated, has always prevailed, that Elijah will appear 


220 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


for the relief and restoration of his country. When Christ 
asked his disciples, “ Whom do men say that I am ?” they 
replied, “ Some say Elijah.” And many of the Jews believe 
that the prophet is employed in missions to mankind, and is 
in some sense ubiquitous, being present in many places at one 
time. He is visible only to those deeply versed in the Cab¬ 
bala, and is described as a venerable old man with a long 
beard. Those who are the special objects of his notice are 
highly favored. “ Happy,” says one, “ is he who hath beheld 
him in dreams, happy he who hath saluted him with peace, 
and to whom the salutation of peace hath been returned.” 
One of the Jewish commentators explains how Elijah became 
qualified for these missions. u He was carried away in a pow¬ 
erful wind, with a chariot and horses of fire, that his moisture 
might be exhaled and dried away. Thus he became light 
and swift, to appear in all places. He has no need of meat 
and drink, or of anything necessary to human life, because 
his body was transformed into a spiritual state, and he re¬ 
ceived a spiritual nature.” 

THE MOUNT OF TRANSFIGURATION. 

We know, by the sure word of Scripture, that Elijah did 
once return to this world. The record is given us by three 
of the Evangelists. “ Jesus took Peter and John and James, 
and went up into a mountain to pray. And as he prayed, the 
fashion of His countenance was altered, and His raiment was 
white and glistering. And behold, there talked with Him two 
men, which were Moses and Elias, who appeared in glory, 
and spoke of His decease which He should accomplish at 
Jerusalem.” Mountains seem to be a kind of natural mediators 
between the earth and the skies, and God has often selected 
them as the scenes of His most wondrous manifestations and 
displays of glory. Quiet islands amid the ocean of worldly 
confusion, upon them some of the most remarkable transac¬ 
tions in sacred history have taken place. They are specially 


ELIJAH. 


221 


connected with the life of Elijah, as well as with other Scrip¬ 
ture characters and incidents. The ark rested on Mount 
Ararat. The law was promulgated with solemn grandeur 
from Mount Sinai. Aaron, the first high priest, was com¬ 
manded to ascend Mount Hor, and die there. Moses, the 
great law-giver, viewed the Promised Land from Mount Nebo, 
died upon its summit, and was buried in one of the clefts of 
the mountain. The blessing rested on Mount Ebal and the 
curse on Mount Gerizim. It was on Mount Moriah that 
Abraham was commanded to take his son, his only son Isaac, 
and offer him as a sacrifice; and it was there that he met 
deliverance in the distressing hour, and erected his altar, and 
inscribed upon it, “ Jehovah Jireh,” the Lord will provide. 
It was on Mount Carmel that Elijah prayed so earnestly for 
rain, and by his intercession opened the windows of heaven, 
and brought relief and salvation to the suffering people and 
nation. It was on Mount Horeb that he witnessed the sub¬ 
lime manifestations of Jehovah’s power, and heard the still, 
small voice that spake of peace and love, and calmed and 
soothed his anxious, troubled spirit. It was on Mount Tabor 
that the Saviour was transfigured, on Mount Calvary that He 
died, and on Mount Olivet that He ascended into heaven. 

Among these consecrated spots, Tabor will ever stand con¬ 
spicuous—a perpetual memorial of the wondrous scene en¬ 
acted upon it. No cloud has rested on any mountain like 
that of Tabor. No light has gilded their tops like the glory 
which emanated there from the Sun of Eighteousness. No 
prayer ever ascended from any altar or high place, which 
was answered more richly than that which upon Tabor 
opened heaven, and lighted up the gloom of night with celes¬ 
tial glory. And no mountain ever gathered upon its summit 
an assembly so honored and so illustrious, as that which was 
convened to receive the testimony of God to the Sonship of 
Jesus. In appearance, too, Tabor is one of the most interest¬ 
ing and remarkable of the mountains of Palestine. It rises 


222 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


abruptly from the plain, and stands entirely insulated, except 
on the west, where a narrow ridge connects it with the hills 
of Nazareth. Symmetrical in its proportions, and crowned 
with trees and odoriferous shrubs, if there is anything beau¬ 
tiful in nature, it is this green and rounded mountain pyramid 
of Galilee. The top consists of an irregular platform, em¬ 
bracing a circuit of about a half an hour’s walk, and presents 
one of the most extensive and charming prospects to be found 
in the world. To the right the eye, after resting on Mount 
Carmel, beholds the “ great sea” stretching westward until 
bounded by the horizon. Northward appears the glittering 
snowy cupola of Hermon, with the black ridge of Lebanon 
beneath it. Toward the south, the eye rests upon the beauti¬ 
ful verdure of luxuriant vineyards and orange groves, and 
farther on upon the mountains of Samaria. Whilst to the 
left gleams the Sea of Tiberias, intersecting the waving grain- 
fields of the plain of Esdraelon. 

But the little company gathered there eighteen centuries 
ago were not occupied with this enchanting vision. It was 
night, but over the group shone a dazzling radiance, and 
about them was a halo of glory. Small in number was that 
assembly, but none since the world began was more important 
or more honored. Three of the disciples were there. Moses 
and Elijah were there. The Law and the Prophets, the Gos¬ 
pel and the Apostles, were represented. And the center of 
that constellation was the Sun of Bighteousness, the Son of 
God, the Lord Jesus Christ, the Saviour of Moses and Elijah, 
of Peter and James and John, and of all who believe in His 
name. 

• And what was the theme of conversation among the august 
personages who compoesd this little group ? “ They spoke 

of His decease which He should accomplish at Jerusalem.” 
There is, then, something more glorious than translation. So 
Elijah told the disciples ; so he tells us. The death of a 
malefactor, the death of the cross; this, in the eyes of saints 


ELIJAH. 


223 


and angels, is far more glorious. This breaks down all dis¬ 
tinctions ; this exhibits the eternal Son of God uniting Him¬ 
self with the weakness and the death of every creature. This 
makes it a shame to wish that there were any other way into 
the full and open presence of God, than the one which He 
has consecrated; and makes as desirous of being partakers 
with Him in His death, as well as in His life. This teaches 
us the glory of self-sacrifice, and suffering, and obedience 
even unto death. And in the cross, we see Righteousness 
and Wisdom and Love triumphing over all forms of human 
and natural power, and claiming them as the servants, and us 
as the children, of Him of whom Moses and Elijah and every 
prophet in the old world bore witness while they were on 
earth, and bear witness now in glory. 


ELIJAH AT HOREB. 

’Tis well true hearts should for a time retire 
To holy ground, in quiet to aspire 
Towards promised regions of serener grace ; 

On Horeb with Elijah let us lie, 

Where all around, on mountain, sand and sky, 

God’s chariot wheels have left distinctest trace. 

There, if in jealousy and strong disdain 
We to the sinner’s God of sin complain, 

Untimely seeking here the peace of heaven— 

“ It is enough, 0 Lord! now let me die, 

Even as my fathers did; for what am I 
That I should stand where they have vainly striven ?” 

He on*the rock may bid us stand, and see 
The outskirts of His march of mystery, 

His endless warfare with man’s wilful heart; 

First, His great power He to the sinner shows: 

Lo ! at His angry blast the rocks unclose, 

And to their base the trembling mountains part. 



224 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


Yet the Lord is not here—’tis not by power 
He will be known; but darker tempests lower; 

Still, sullen heavings vex the laboring ground. 
Perhaps His presence, through all depth and height— 
Best of all gems that deck his crown of light— 

The haughty eye may dazzle and confound. 

God is not in the earthquake; but behold 
From Sinai’s caves are bursting, as of old, 

The flames of His consuming jealous ire. 

Woe to the sinner should stern justice prove 
His chosen attribute; but he in love 
Hastes to proclaim, “ God is not in the fire.” 

The storm is o’er; and, hark! a still small voice 
Steals on the ear to say, Jehovah’s choice 
Is ever with the soft, meek, tender soul ; 

By soft, meek, tender ways He loves to draw 
The sinner, startled by His ways of awe : 

Here is our Lord, and not where thunders roll. 

Back, then, complainer; loathe thy life no more, 

Nor deem thyself upon a desert shore 

Because the rocks the near prospects close. 

Yet in fallen Israel are there hearts and eyes 
That day by day in prayer like thine arise: 

Thou knowest them not, but their Creator knows. 








































y. 

ELISHA. 


Contrast -with Elijah—The Son of a Farmer—The Plowman called to 
be a Prophet—Farewell to Father and Mother—Slays a Yoke of Oxen 
and gives an entertainment—Translation of Elijah—Master and Disciple 
Converse—“ A Double Portion of thy Spirit ”—The Friends Parted— 
Elisha takes up the Mantle-Divides Jordan—Heals the Waters of Jericho 
—Bears Destroy Forty-two Insolent Youths at Bethel—Good Men not to 
be Despised—A Word to Parents—Mt. Carmel—War—The Confeder¬ 
ate Camp—The Suppliant Kings—Music and Prophecy—Trenches fill¬ 
ed without Rain—Water Mistaken for Blood—Human Sacrifices—The 
Pot of Oil—Lands for the Landless—God takes care of His Children— 
The Shunammite—The Prophet’s Chamber—The Grateful Guest— 
Death and Life—The Land Restored—Death in the Pot—A Friend in 
Need—The Hebrew Maid—The Journey to Israel—Naaman before 
Elisha—The Jordan—Gehazi—Abana and Pharpar—Damascus—The 
Borrowed Axe—Elisha’s Safeguard—Samaria Besieged—The Deserted 
Tents—Hazael—Jehu—Naboth Avenged—Jezebel—Slaughter of the 
Princes—The Rechabite—The Massacre at Samaria—Character of Jehu 
—The Arrow of Deliverance—The Character of Elisha’s Ministry. 

There is an infinite variety in nature and in grace, and 
the Lord in choosing instruments to accomplish His purposes, 
employs men of very different gifts and dispositions; and 
nowhere is there a more striking contrast presented than in 
the lives and characters of Elijah and Elisha, the two great 
prophets of the kingdom of Israel. Elijah bursts upon us as 
if he had descended from heaven. His first utterance is that 
of a delegate of Omnipotence, one commissioned to shut and 
open heaven, and to wield the thunderbolts of Jehovah. He 
came as the champion of the old, forgotten law. If Moses 
was the giver of the law, he was its restorer. He was a Re¬ 
former, and not a Theologian. He wrote, he predicted, he 
taught almost nothing. He is to be valued not for what he 
said, but for what he did; not because he created, but because 
he destroyed. Of all the prophets he is the one most removed 
from modern times, from Christian civilization; while the life 

( 227 ) 



228 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


of Elisha shows more than any other the patience and ten¬ 
derness of the Gospel. Round the picture of Elijah in the 
Eastern churches at the present day, the Orientals by a nat¬ 
ural association place the decapitated heads of their enemies. 
Abdallah Pasha, the fierce lord of Acre, almost died of terror 
from a vision in which he believed himself to have seen 
Elijah sitting on the top of Carmel. There is a wildness, 
an isolation, a roughness about him, contrasting forcibly with 
the mild beneficence of his successor. He was a true Bedouin 
child of the desert. The clefts of the Cherith, the wild shrubs 
of the desert, the cave at Horeb, the top of Carmel, were his 
haunts and his resting-places. If he enters a city, it is only 
to deliver his message of fire and be gone. And his family 
connections are altogether concealed from us. Not a word is 
mentioned of his father and his mother, nor is there anywhere 
an allusion to his genealogy or relationships. The softer 
feelings of domestic life seem shaded by the experience of his 
elevated soul, and there is an imposing majesty in his char¬ 
acter which keeps us at a distance. We are awed and re¬ 
pelled, and feel that he is like Sinai with the bounds set round 
about the mount. 

But Elisha, in his appearance, his manners, and his intro¬ 
duction to our notice, is like any other man. We are con¬ 
ducted to his house. We see him clothed in the ordinary 
garments of an Israelite of his day, his hair is trimmed, in 
contrast to the disordered locks of Elijah, and he uses a 
walking-stick of the kind usually carried by grave or aged 
citizens. We are made acquainted with his occupation and 
connections. We behold him at his plow as a common 
husbandman, as one whose feelings and experience are much 
the same as our own; who partakes with us in the common 
affairs and circumstances of life; who is closely allied by 
blood, affection and tenderness to the circle in which he lives; 
who is a stranger to none of the sensibilities of our common 
nature; who can feel the pain of separation and taking leave 


ELISHA. 


229 


of friends; and in whose bosom beats the heart of an ordinary 
member of the family circle. We can venture familiarly to 
approach him. His features reflect only mildness and 
humility, instead of the consciousness of his dignified station; 
and the most timid may feel comfortable and at home in his 
society. 

In short, while Elijah, by the thunder of his mighty deeds, 
rouses the nation out of the deadly sleep of idolatry and crime, 
and breaks their hearts with the hammer of the Law, it is 
Elisha’s office to bind up the broken-hearted and to comfort 
them that mourn. He is an evangelist, and represents the 



RUINS. 

loving-kindness of the Lord, and he is nurtured under circum¬ 
stances well suited to develop the more tender feelings of the 
soul. The son of a prosperous Jewish farmer, he is sur¬ 
rounded by the calmness and serenity of a quiet country life, 
and for years together his mind experiences no other influ¬ 
ences than those which come from the blue heaven, the ver¬ 
dant meadow, the godly example of his pious father, and the 
mild sunshine of a mother’s love. In such scenes Elijah 
found him, busily plying his vocation, plowing in the field at 








230 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


the head of his father’s servants, his eye intent upon the fur¬ 
row, and his thoughts for the future not reaching further, it 
may be, than the harvest-home. Possibly he thought, on 
springing from his couch that morning, that all his tact and 
determination would be needed to keep his companions at 
duty, and accomplish the needed amount of work by setting 
sun. The day would be a busy one. For the seed-time was 
quite at hand. There was no time to lose. Things ran a 
rapid course in that climate. They did not creep forward 
sluggishly as they do in ours. The twelve yoke of oxen 
might seem quite too few to enable him to take advantage 
of the season, and keep his affairs abreast of those of his 
neighbors. 

THE PLOWMAN CALLED TO BE A PROPHET. 

And so Elijah finds him with head bent downward, and 
his whole thoughts intent upon the matters depending upon 
his exertions, so thoroughly preoccupied, that he looks not 
up to salute the mysterious stranger, whose approach he does 
not even perceive. But in a moment all is changed. There 
is the flutter of a mantle, a momentary motion as the stran¬ 
ger passes, a motion little greater than is caused by the soft¬ 
est breeze which glides over the yielding tops of the tall 
grass, and bends the wild flowers upon their stalks; and yet 
it causes Elisha to leave his plow in the furrow, and follow 
the man who has brought an instant change upon his heart 
and the whole current of his life. Elijah has passed on with 
rapid stride. The young farmer overtakes him, and makes 
but one request, “Let me, I pray thee, kiss my father and my 
mother, and then I will follow thee.” Here was true filial 
affection, and yet obedience to the call of God. He was not 
ignorant of what the action of Elijah implied. The servants 
may have wondered, “ what has come over our young master, 
who has not been wont to neglect his duty, and run after every 
passer-by ?” But Elisha well understood that he was now 


ELTSHA. 


231 


consecrated in a peculiar sense to the service of Jehovah. 
The slight outward sign had been accompanied by a powerful 
inward effect. The Spirit of the Lord, like the wind, bloweth 
where it listeth, and it had stirred the soul of Elisha to its 
profoundest depths. 

His request was very different from that of the young man 
who long afterward said, “ Lord, suffer me first to bury my 
father and my mother, and then will I come and follow thee.” 
The latter pleaded, to be let alone till his parents were dead— 
he wished to remain with them during the residue of their 
lives, and then obey the Lord’s summons. Elisha asked only to 
explain his conduct, announce' the call of the Lord, and say 
“ farewell.” What were the circumstances of the parting we 
are not informed. The narrative rolls on in its simple 
grandeur, not telling us whether his father and mother were 
reluctant to part with him, or piously and cheerfully suffered 
him to follow the bent of his destiny. And yet it is more 
than conjecture when we say that they submitted with 
alacrity to Jehovah’s call. The slaying of a yoke of his 
father’s oxen by Elisha to furnish an entertainment for the 
people, proves that he had his parents’ consent to enter upon 
his new life. And so, the feast over, with a hearty concurrence, 
and yet with tearful eyes, they beheld the form of their son, 
with his mysterious companion, lessening in the distance and 
at length vanishing from their sight. 

For at least eight years Elisha continued the attendant and 
disciple of Elijah, and during the whole of that time we hear 
nothing of him. It is not necessary to suppose that during 
this period, or afterward, there was no intercourse between 
him and his father’s house. The silence upon this score is 
rather intended to show us that ordinary relations and inter¬ 
ests had become secondary matters to him, and the narrative 
is confined to what bears directly upon his mission as a pro¬ 
phet. And it is reasonable to suppose that, although his 
name is not mentioned again until the removal of his master, 


232 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


he was yet concerned in all those cases where the agency of 
any prophet other than Elijah was required. We must be¬ 
lieve that while not yet “the prophet of Israel,” he was sub¬ 
ordinate and secondary only to him whom he had been chosen 
to succeed. 

TRANSLATION OF ELIJAH. 

But the day of the separation of master and servant drew 
near; and when at length it came there was a presentiment 
among the sons of the prophets of what was about to take 
place. The words of Elijah on certain occasions had implied 
that he was to be distinguished above others in the manner 
of his removal from the world; and we may well suppose 
that there was something in his appearance which produced 
the impression upon all who came near him that his destiny 
was to be different from that of other men, and that the time 
of some great event in his history was at hand. In making 
the circuit of the schools for the last time, he expressed a 
desire to proceed alone, and requested Elisha to remain be¬ 
hind. To one who loved ease more than duty this would 
have furnished a tempting opportunity of escaping a long and 
toilsome journey, with the blazing sun beating fiercely upon 
them all the way; but Elisha was determined not to lose a 
single opportunity of being with his master, and enjoying his 
instructions. Just as we fondly linger around the bed of a 
dying friend, anxious to catch every word that may fall from 
the lips which are soon to speak to us no more, so Elisha 
clings to his beloved master. Sweet, no doubt, was their in¬ 
tercourse, as they traveled on their way; and never probably 
did their hearts so burn within them as when they talked 
together during this closing journey. Perhaps the elder of 
the two spoke of the parting that was near, and of their meet¬ 
ing again in a better world, and gave his friend and brother 
many a word of pious counsel concerning his future course. 

Presently Elijah asks him if he has any particular request 


ELISHA. 


233 


to make. “ I pray thee,” he replies, “ let a double portion of 
thy spirit be upon me.” Conscious of his own weakness, and 
of the greatness of the work before him, he might well ask 
for the same spirit that had rested on Elijah, and that in a 
still larger measure. He felt that his work was great, and 
therefore he needed all the more grace. It was not that he 
desired to surpass in supernatural power all prophets that had 
gone before him. But in his humility and self-distrust, he 
believed a much larger measure of Divine grace and strength 
necessary to compensate his deficiencies, and ^o sustain that 
lofty character, which, now that his revered master was about 
to be withdrawn, would devolve upon one so unworthy as 
himself. The form of his request is explained by the fact that 
the heir was entitled to a double portion of his father’s goods. 
As the first-born of Elijah’s spiritual children, he asks a 
double portion of his spirit. Nor need we exclude the idea 
that, designated as he had been to the prophetic succession, 
selected as the heir to the office of Elijah, he wished to be 
assured of this now by some token that would be satisfactory, 
not only to himself but to others. Be this as it may, the 
same spirit which actuated Elijah was undoubtedly conferred 
in a large measure on his follower, producing similar abstrac¬ 
tedness from the world, devotedness to the will and messages 
of the Most High, and fearlessness of the power of man. 

The friends still go on, and talk together. They have many 
things to say. Very different are their prospects now. In¬ 
deed, except in devotion to the cause of God, they have been 
unlike in most respects all along ; but they are most unlike 
now. The one has done his work, and the reward is before 
him—and such a reward! The other has his work to begin, 
and who can tell what vicissitudes of peril and persecution 
that work may bring with it ? The one has the assurance of 
being taken to heaven without tasting death ; his thoughts 
are already so brightly tinged with the hues of Paradise, that 
they scarcely belong to the earth. The other has before him life 


234 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


with its stern duties ; a solitary return to the place whence 
he has come; a thankless task and a dangerous mission; 
little hope of aid from the hand of man ; at last, perhaps, not 
translation, but a bloody and cruel death. And well may he 
cry out for a double portion of the spirit of Elijah. 

How majestic in its simplicity is the Scriptural narrative 
of the wonderful event which now happened I “ And it came 
to pass, as they still went on and talked, that behold there 
appeared a chariot of fire and horses of fire, and parted them 
both asunder, and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven.” 
Elisha had only time to mark the unwonted display, when his 
friend was separated from him. St. Paul, long afterward, was 
struck blind in circumstances somewhat similar ; no wonder 
if Elisha’s eyes were dazzled with the excessive brightness! 
He looks again, after a brief moment, and the glowing chariot, 
its soukrapt occupant, and its steeds of fire, are already far 
away into the visible heavens ; and as he strains his upward 
gaze, he cries, “my Father, my Father, the chariot of Israel, 
and the horsemen thereof.” Another instant, and all is lost 
to view, and only a luminous track, like the pathway of an 
angelic host, defines by its lingering glories the bright course 
by which the friend of his soul has entered into his rest. 

And now the light is faded from the sky, and for a mo¬ 
ment the light of all comfort has well-nigh deserted Elisha’s 
heart. In the bitter impulse of his grief for the loss of one 
who had been so dear to him, and whom he considered in¬ 
dispensable to his country’s welfare, “ he took hold of his 
own clothes, and rent them in two pieces.” This paroxysm of 
sorrow, however, was but momentary; and “ he took up also 
the mantle of Elijah that fell from him.” That mantle was 
now his. The symbol and badge of the office he was thence¬ 
forward to fill, from it has been drawn the figure of speech 
which has passed into a proverb for the succession of the gifts 
of gifted men. It is one of the representations by which, in 
the Roman catacombs, the early Christians consoled them- 


ELISHA. 


235 



The sons of the prophets, on their distant watch, beheld 
this miracle; and the language of the narrative seems also to 
imply that they were impressed by something in the appear¬ 
ance of the prophet as he drew near them. “And when” 
they “ saw him, they said, The spirit of Elijah doth rest on 
Elisha. And they came to meet him, and bowed themselves 
to the ground before him.” That was well; but what follows 


selves for the loss of their departed friends. With the man- 
tie he descends once more to the Jordan stream, and wields it 
in his hand. The waters (so one version of the passage 
represents the scene) for a moment hesitate: “ they divided 
not.” He invokes the aid of Him, to whose Holy Name he 
adds the new epithet of “ the God of Elijah;” and then the 
waters “part hither and thither,” and he passes over and is in 
his own native region. 


236 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


can only serve to give us a very dubious opinion of their 
claims upon our respect for aught but good intentions. Their 
device of sending forth certain strong men to search for Elijah, 
lest the Spirit of the Lord might have taken him up, and cast 
him upon some mountain, or into some valley, comes upon us 
with a very unpleasant effect after the great event which had 
just taken place, and we cannot but contrast the feelings of 
Elisha, who knew that his master had been translated, with 
the crude, half-infidel notions of these men, who only dimly 
understood the transaction. He appears to have been so ad¬ 
verse to their proposal that he could only deign to forbid it 
in these brief and peremptory words, “Ye shall not send!” 
And we can scarcely doubt that there was something of the 
sternness of well-merited reproof in his looks, when, in the 
shame he felt at their urgency, he said, “Send!” 

In the gardens and groves of Jericho, fresh from its recent 
restoration, he now takes up his abode. This city had lain 
desolate from the time when its walls were miraculously lev¬ 
eled with the ground, on the seventh day of its investiture 
by the host of Israel under Joshua, after they had just en¬ 
tered the Promised Land. A curse was pronounced upon 
him who should rebuild it; and for the space of four hundred 
and forty years no one dared to incur the threatened doom. 
But during the wicked reign of Ahab, amid the general apos¬ 
tasy which disgraced the land, there was one Hiel, a Bethelite, 
who presumed to set the curse at defiance, and according to 
the letter of the denunciation, his first born died when he laid 
the foundation, and his youngest son, the last of his race, 
perished when he set up the gates. One is almost tempted 
to think that, amid the deplorable backslidings of the period, 
the dread denunciations connected with this city had been 
lost sight of; otherwise this man, when the doom foretold 
was being fulfilled with such fatal exactness, would have de¬ 
sisted from his impious undertaking ere the whole of the dis¬ 
aster-which befell his family had been completed. 


ELISHA. 


237 


The city then was new, only fourteen years old; and the 
situation was pleasant, and is said to be so at the present day. 
It had also become the seat of one of the schools of the prophets, 
and was altogether a very desirable place to spend one’s days 
in, with the fatal exception, that the water by which it was 
supplied was unwholesome, causing barrenness in the land, 
and the fruit trees to shed their untimely fruit. The people 
had recently heard of strange occurrences, and some of them 
had been eye-witnesses of the marvelous power of God. And 
now Elisha was in their neighborhood, and newly entered upon 
his prophetic mission, clothed with all the powers and endow¬ 
ments of Elijah, and much less terrible of aspect, and greatly 
more open to the advances of ordinary men. Was it not an 
excellent time to bespeak his good offices for their city ? And 
so we have Elisha, like a great man as he was—the greatest 
then living—receiving a deputation. And very business-like 
was the statement that was made to him. Few words were 
spoken. And it may do us good to think of the faith of those 
men. “ Bring me a new cruse, and put salt therein,” said the 
prophet. This was his first utterance after hearing the peti¬ 
tion of his visitors. And what did they do ? Did any of 
them turn round and question the utility of what he proposed ? 
It is simply added that they brought it to him. Th,ey brought 
it; not Elisha’s pupils, the sons of the prophets, but those men 
of the city, and thus did they testify their faith. And then 
they accompany Elisha, with his new cruse and handful of 
salt, to the fountain, a mile from the city. The spring was 
copious, but the quality of the water exceedingly bad, and 
how slender the preparation for the cure of a fountain large 
enough to drive mills! But there was no faltering, no mis¬ 
giving, on the part of the prophet, nor yet on the part of those 
who were with him. And every eye was on him as he cast 
the salt into the bitter waters, and said, “ Thus saith the Lord, 
I have healed these waters; there shall not be from thence 
any more death or barren land.” A permanent cure was 


238 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


effected, and to this day the spring is known to Jew and Chris¬ 
tian as Elisha’s Fountain, and the waters are beautifully clear 
and sweet and pleasant. 

BEARS DESTROY THE REVILERS OF ELISHA. 


The prophet, now fully entered upon his work, must leave 
for a time these grateful citizens, and visit Bethel, the seat of 
another of the schools of the prophets. Bethel, however, was 



COAST SCENE. 


a stronghold of idolatry, too, and we hear of no deputation 
sent out to welcome him, and bespeak his good offices. Some¬ 
thing very different occurred. As he climbed the steep 
ascent, he was assailed by a rabble of boys with the cry “ Go 
up, thou bald-head! go up, thou bald-head !” He turned and 
cursed them, and forthwith came two she-bears, and tore forty 
and two of them. Of this transaction Prof. F. D. Maurice 
says, “ There are some deeds attributed to Elisha, I allude 
especially to the cursing of the children at Bethel of which I 
have never heard any explanation that seemed to me satis- 







ELISHA. 


239 


factory. It is easy to dispose of such narratives by saying 
that they accord with the character of the Old Testament, 
though not of the New ; but as I have not availed myself of 
that plea in other cases, I cannot in this. The Old Dispensa¬ 
tion, I believe, reveals the same God as the New; less perfectly, 
no doubt, oftentimes through clouds which the risen sun has 
scattered, but a God exhibiting righteousness, mercy, truth ; de¬ 
manding them of His creatures ; cultivating them in all who sub¬ 
mit themselves to Him and acknowledge Him as their Lord. 
Nor can I merely resolve the difficulty by telling you, that if 
you accept the Bible as the word of God, you'must take each 
passage of it as part of the whole, without asking any 
questions. The Bible itself forces us to ask a multitude of 
questions. Because I receive it as a revelation of God, I am 
bound to ask what it reveals concerning God. Because 1 
receive it as a whole book, as a continuous revelation, I am 
bound to ask how one part of it accords with and interprets 
another. We must not fear to make this demand. It is 
distrusting the Bible, distrusting God, to have such a fear. 
And when we have not found the answer in any special 
instance, we should say so frankly. It cannot shake our 
faith to feel such ignorance and to confess it. If there ivere a 
hundred passages which I was unable to interpret, but which 
•puzzled me as to their moral significance , I should believe in the 
God whom the rest revealed to me, and ask Him to instruct me 
what I should think of them. And this I believe in good time 
He would do, if I did not lose my hold upon that which I had, 
or attempt by hasty efforts of my own to grasp that' which 
I had not. A man who takes this course is, I believe, in an 
infinitely safer moral condition, and shows far more reverence 
for the Bible, than one who takes the whole book nominally, 
upon trust or upon evidence, and does not care what the 
contents of it are, does not strive to bring them into connec¬ 
tion with himself, does not desire to understand from them 
what God is. This story, however, is not one of a number 


240 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


which I find it hard to reconcile with the general teaching of 
the book. I do not know that there is another in which I 
perceive the same difficulty, and for that very reason, instead 
of passing it over, or offering some solution of it, or on the 
other hand, pronouncing it an interpolation, when I have no 
proof to offer that it is one, I think it is a plain duty to pro¬ 
fess that I do not understand it, though better persons may.” 

In quoting, we have emphasized portions of the above. 
It is the frank and honest utterance of an honest man. Other 
views may be stated thus: The Baal-worshipers of Bethel 
had known Elisha merely as the servant of Elijah—a mild, 
quiet, kindly man, who did his master’s bidding, but of whom 
nobody stood in awe. He was such a man as the very 
children might take it upon them to insult. A very different 
man altogether was this from that stern prophet, who single- 
handed had proved an over-match for Baal and all his 
prophets, with the king and queen at their back, and of whom 
the very thunderbolts of heaven were the submissive servants. 
Had he been returning, the idolatrous matrons would have 
kept their children beside them, and the boldest of the men 
would have given place; but now “ it was only Elisha who 
was coming; and it was a day of mirth, and the children might 
have a holiday ; and if they amused themselves at the expense 
of the harmless visitant that was approaching, what matter.” 
Possibly he had been the target of their rude scoffs before ; 
and now his appearance was too ridiculous as he toiled up the 
hill, wearing the sheep-skin mantle of Elijah, and claiming 
to be his successor—his smooth close-trimmed locks contrast¬ 
ing with the long shaggy hair that streamed over the 
shoulders of his great and awful predecessor. 

But there were more than children in the noisy throng that 
now surrounded the prophet, and burst into mocking laughter 
as they called him “ roundhead.” Children there doubtless 
were, as in every idle mob of young men, shouting and bawl- 
ing, and imitating the vile conduct of their worthless elders 


ELISHA. 


241 


Thus “ they lisp the alphabet and learn the rudiments of vice.’' 
But the ringleaders of the set, the forty-two of them (of the 
company) who were destroyed were men. The term rendered 
children , is applied elsewhere to Ishmael, to Isaac, to Hamor, 
to Joseph, to Gehazi. and to many others, whether children, 
lads, youths or servants and soldiers—quite irrespective of 
age. And when the slaying is spoken of, the prefix “little” 
is dropped, and another word substituted of similar width of 
application with the first. And this crowd of rude boys, and 
insolent young men, with perhaps a sprinkling of those still 
more advanced in life, had “ come out ” deliberately “ to meet ” 
and insult the prophet, and break him down in the very be¬ 
ginning of his ministry. They did not happen to be at their 
sports outside the town when he passed. The mob was gath¬ 
ered on purpose. All their lives they had heard sneers and 
sarcasms levelled at the name and acts of Elijah. Him, sur¬ 
rounded as he was with terrors, they would not have dared 
thus to insult and abuse. But this new and youthful proph¬ 
et, with his nicely shaven crown, and his meek and gentle 
ways—and yet wearing forsooth the mantle and claiming the 
authority of the terrible Elijah—they will crush him at the 
beginning! The reign of terror is over! “ Go up, thou bald- 

head ! Go up after your master. You say he is taken to heaven. 
Go up then after him, and we shall be well rid of you both! ” 
The epithet that is applied to the prophet is a term of con¬ 
tempt, equivalent to calling him a mean and unworthy fellow, 
a social outcast. In this sense it is still used as a term of 
abuse in India and some other parts of the East, and is often 
applied to those who have ample heads of hair. 

But God has said, “ touch not mine anointed and do my 
prophets no harm.” It became Him to vindicate the character 
and authority of His anointed prophet at the beginning of his 
high career; and it became Him to vindicate His ovm authority 
among a people governed by sensible dispensations of judg¬ 
ment and of mercy. As Elisha was to be signally the prophet 
16 


242 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


of love and tenderness and mercy, accessible to all classes of 
the people, sympathizing with all, and in God’s name con¬ 
ferring benefits upon all, it was necessary that this public de¬ 
nial and ridicule of his claims should be efficiently met, and 
his authority as a prophet fully vindicated. And not only 
was this done in a way perfectly in accordance with God’s 
method of dealing with men at that time—but even now, he 
who wishes to be only merciful, and to make his life a con¬ 
stant channel of mercy to the afflicted and the needy, may 
find it necessary sometimes to be severe with the wicked, lest 
in their malice they defeat his purposes of good, and altogether 
paralyze the arm of his mercy. 

Let us learn from this narrative that we cannot despise 
God’s people without despising Him, and we cannot slight 
them without incurring His anger. Let the young reflect 
deeply upon this passage. It is a bad thing to acquire a habit 
of ridiculing any one, and perhaps for some peculiarity of 
manner or appearance which evinces no fault of theirs, and 
of which they cannot rid themselves. Young people who are 
high-minded and generous will not appear to notice, much 
less endeavor to attract attention to the personal singularities 
of others. We need to cultivate respect for the aged, respect 
for those who are in authority, respect for those whose po¬ 
sition is superior to our own ; and we need to cherish a kindly 
feeling toward all, and especially toward those whose condition 
or circumstances may expose them to the sneers or ridicule of 
the ignorant or the foolish. Sometimes, too, it is necessary to 
punish those whose example for evil is contagious. 

A WORD TO PARENTS. 

Let parents consider the danger to which their ill-training 
exposes their children. They may not be eaten by wild 
beasts, but they are ready to fall into the jaws of a worse 
devourer. Your negligence, the evil that goes down to your 
offspring by blood and by example, your pernicious nurture, 


ELISHA. 


243 


are heaping up horrors for them—for yourselves, also—in 
eternity. The fruit may ripen in time. But though you 
taste it not in all its bitterness here, eternity is yours, theirs, 
and fruition must come then. The Hindoo mother used to 
cast her unconscious babe into the Ganges; it passed at once 
to the skies. Father, mother, you cast your child upon the 
smoothly-gliding stream of worldliness and folly, of sensuality 
and sin, and it is carried surely, swiftly down to the deep, 
dark, hopeless abyss below. 

Neither Elisha nor any one connected with him seems to 
have suffered any further molestation in Bethel. Neither 
the priests of Baal, nor any of their disciples, nor any of the 
worshipers of the golden calves, found courage to foment any 
disturbance. No doubt they wished that Elisha and all who 
adhered to him should be expelled. But their spirit was 
crushed. So far as any overt act was concerned, their oppo¬ 
sition was gone. Elisha 
came and went in peace. 

He had the freedom of the 
country. The way was 
open for him to train the 
sons of the prophets in 
cloistered halls, or to leave 
these sacred enclosures and 
wander upon missions 
of mercy, at the bidding CART - 

of the Lord, through the whole extent of the kingdom of 
Israel. He was not hidden in torrent-beds, or secluded in 
mountain fastnesses, but dwelt in his own house in the royal 
city, or lingered amidst his disciples within the precincts of 
ancient colleges, embowered amidst the shades of the beauti¬ 
ful woods which overhung the crystal spring that is still 
associated with his name. In such scenes the main cur¬ 
rent of his life flowed serenely on, but that he made fre¬ 
quent excursions through the country is evident from the 







244 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


language of the Shunammite, as well as other touches of the 
narrative. 

One of the first places he visited was the mountain so in¬ 
timately connected with Elijah. Perhaps he sought the top 
of Carmel to look off on the blue Mediterranean and the 
sweet valley of Jezreel, and breathe in more fully from their 
remembrances the spirit of his great predecessor and master. 

But now the scene changes. We are called to take the 
field ; and we shall find Elisha there. A camp is the scene 
of our narrative. Arms and banners surround us; the sound 
of horns and trumpets thrills in our ears. Moab, a tributary 
of Israel, has revolted, 

“ And everywhere is hammer laid to hoof. 

Around the shop the steely sparkles fly, 

As for the steed is shaped the bending shoe, 

And plunged in water, the hot hiss is heard.” 

The cavalry is arming, the fighting-men are being numbered, 
for the tribute paid by Moab to the crown of Israel is heavy, 
and while intermitted, internal taxation must make up the 
deficiency, so this war to reduce the rebellious province is a 
popular one. Mesha, king of Moab, was a sheep-master, and 
rendered to the king of Israel a hundred thousand lambs, and 
a hundred thousand rams, with the wool. The word trans¬ 
lated sheep-master literally means “ a marker,” and comes to 
denote a shepherd, because of the necessity of marking the 
sheep to distinguish different flocks, a necessity all the greater 
in lands destitute of enclosures. Tribute, in ancient times, 
was usually paid in cattle, or in some product of the country. 
The Hebrews, however, were able to pay in precious metal, 
partly from the hoards of their kings, and partly from the 
facility they possessed of turning their produce into money 
in the Phenician markets. 

Jehoram sends word to the king of Judah that he desires 
his assistance in the war. The answer is prompt: “I will 
go up; I am as thou art, my people as thy people, and my 


ELISHA. 


245 


horses as thy horses.” These kings were not only kinsmen, but 
they had a common interest; Moab was subject to the one, 
Edom to the other. It was necessary that any resistance to 
the Jewish domination should be promptly quelled. So the 
Israelites marched down through Judah’s territory, and being 
joined by the forces of Jehoshaphat, proceeded round by the 
southern extremity of the Dead Sea, where being joined by 
the auxiliaries of Edom, they entered Moab on the south. 
Thus they avoided contact with the Syrians in the north, and 
were able also the better to keep the Edomites under their 
eye. 

For seven days the combined armies penetrated a desolate 
and sterile country—a part of that desert which had wit¬ 
nessed the sufferings of their forefathers in the journey from 
Eygpt, and by the time they entered the land of Moab they 
were nearly consumed for want of water. The streams, 
which they expected to find flowing, were all dried up, and 
dry and stony beds mocked their parched lips. The armed 
men were fainting for thirst, the beasts of burden were per¬ 
ishing by the way. The weary stragglers in the rear, who 
came up faint and spiritless, were struck dumb with horror 
at the number of strong men whose corpses marked all the 
line of march—the vulture and other birds of prey hovering 
over them, or lazily rising up from their obscene banquet 
upon the dead, and filling every heart with forebodings. 
Even the boldest were losing hope, while the deceitful ap¬ 
pearances of the desert mocked them with anticipations 
which soon proved groundless, for instead of the shade of 
palm-groves and water in abundance, there were burning 
sands, parched-up spots of pasture, and blazing sunbeams 
borne on heated gusts of air, which smote them like the 
blast of a furnace of fire. 

And now the faint-hearted Jehoram is on the point of 
giving up all for lost. He says, “ The Lord has brought us 
here to slay us.” But Jehoshaphat asks if there is not a 


246 


PltOrHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


prophet of the Lord in the camp. He is precise in his in¬ 
quiry. It is a “ prophet of the Lord” that he wants. Jeho- 
ram might have plenty of a different stamp. The king .of 
Judah wants no Baal-worshiper, but one commissioned by 
Jehovah. And such a one is at hand. * Unknown to the 
kings, moved by the impulse of a higher master than they, 
Elisha has joined the army and marched with the immense 
host. By the mandate of the Lord, he is there to accomplish 
a mighty deliverance. Apprised of his presence, the kings 
do not send for him, but in all their royal state, go down to 
his tent. Most men would have been overwhelmed by such 
a visitation—three crowned heads ! But not at all abashed 
by their presence, the prophet, albeit a mild-mannered man, 
rebukes the son of Ahab as sternly as Elijah himself could 
have done. “ What have I to do with thee ; go to the pro¬ 
phets of thy father and mother.” And the king replies in a 
deprecating tone, “ Hay, but the .Lord has called us three 
kings to deliver us into the hand of Moab.” Then Elisha 
said, “Were it not for Jehoshaphat, king of Judah, I would 
not look toward thee, nor see thee; but now bring me a 
minstrel.” Most susceptible to external influences, he needed 
to calm the perturbations of his spirit, to bring his soul into 
a fit frame for receiving the communications he sought from 
heaven. He needed that his spirit should be borne upon the 
wings of harmonious sound into that Divine Presence which 
no dissonance can approach. ISTor was the soothing influence 
of sweet sounds for him alone. The kings, as they listened, 
though less impressionable than Elisha, could not but come 
under the strange and subtile power of this most spiritual 
of earthly influences, and thus be prepared to receive in a 
right spirit the directions they sought. They had not long 
to wait. As with rapt ardor the minstrel swept the strings, 
the Divine influence came down upon the prophet’s mind, and 
the last note had scarcely died away when he spake. “ Make 
this valley full of ditches, for thus saith the Lord, you shall 


ELISHA. 


247 


not see wind or rain, and yet this valley shall be filled with 
water, that you and your beasts may drink.” Obedient to 
the Divine command, soon thousands of men were at work, 
scooping out wide and deep trenches in the dry torrent-beds 
of the valley. And some of them doubtless went to their 
toil impatient that in their weakness and weariness labor 
should be added to their thirst. But now night fell over all, 
and the panting host lay down to sleep. And while all was 
quiet in the camp, and the night air was stirred by no breeze, 
and no signs of rain were visible in the sky, by the ordina¬ 
tion of God, the distant mountains have attracted the clouds, 
and a fearful storm is raging, and torrents of rain are falling, 
and the waters are already making their way toward the 
tired unconscious host. And when the trumpet has roused 
them from their slumbers, at the moment when they are 
offering the morning sacrifice, the torrent comes rushing from 
the way of Edom, and fills all the ditches, and there is 
abundance of water for all the confederated armies. 

And now the Moabites appear upon a mountain overlooking 
the encampment. They approach from a direction opposite 
to that whence the waters have come. They know of no 
storm, and looking down upon the plain, the sun shining full 
in their faces, and giving a reddish tinge to the water in the 
trenches, they jump to the conclusion that the allies have 
fallen out, and that this is the blood of the battle. Under 
this delusion they hasten to plunder the camp which they 
suppose forsaken, but find it full of living and refreshed men, 
whose swords soon make the visionary blood a truth. The in¬ 
vaders gain an easy victory, roll back the shattered forces of 
the enemy, pursue them over their own soil, beat down their 
fortified cities, lay waste the whole country, and give a literal 
fulfillment to the words of the prophet, “Ye shall smite every 
fenced city and every choice city, and shall fell every good 
tree, and shall stop all wells of water, and mar every good 
piece of land with stones.” 


248 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


At length the king of Moab is shut up in his strong city 
of Kir-hareseth. He makes a bold attempt to force his way 
through the investing forces, at the head of seven hundred 
resolute men. He is repelled and driven back into the city. 
This seems the last of human resources, and nothing is left 
him but a solemn appeal to his gods for deliverance. The 
emergency is great. Not only the welfare, but the very ex¬ 
istence of his house and nation, is at stake. He therefore 
conceives that the blood of bulls and of goats will not suffice 
for the greatness of the occasion. It demands the most pre¬ 
cious and costly offering known to paganism, the life of a 



PLAIN AND LAKES OP DAMASCUS. 


man; and that of no common man, but of him whose life is 
most precious to the king himself, and to the state—even his 
own son, his eldest son, who should succeed him on the throne 
Accordingly, he offers up his first-born publicly, in the sight 
of all the armies, upon the wall. Horror-struck at the terri¬ 
ble spectacle, indignant that Mesha should have been driven 
in his despair to such a dreadful resource, weary now of 
fighting and destroying, the allies raise the siege and depart. 
The object of the campaign is attained. Moab is forced to 
return beneath the scepter of Israel. 

Human sacrifices, alas, have been far from rare in the annals 










ELISHA. 


249 


of heathenism. The perverse ingenuity of man has reasoned 
that whatever is most costly and precious must needs be most 
acceptable as an offering to the gods; and hence the life of 
man, the noblest of creatures, must be the most valuable 
of all offerings. And the more illustrious, the more pure or 
exalted the person who is offered up as a sacrifice, the more 
likely are the stern powers that rule the destinies of man to 
be gratified, soothed and rendered propitious. Hence the lives 
of the most pure, the most beautiful, the most high-born— 
children, virgins and noble youths, have been considered the 
most splendid and effectual sacrifices. Readers of the Greek 
drama will recall the offering up of Iphigenia as narrated in 
the tragedy of Aeschylus. The sacrifice of the king’s only 
daughter was declared by the priest to be the sole means of 
propitiating the angry goddess, who, by storms and adverse 
winds, prevented the Argive fleet from sailing. 


“ The sons of Atreus, starting from their thrones, 

Dashed to the ground their scepters, nor withheld 
The bursting tears that dew’d their warrior cheeks; 

And thus exclaiming spoke the Elder King : 

* 0 heavy, fatal doom ! to disobey! 

O heavy, fatal doom! my child to slay— 

My child! the idol treasure of my house! 

Must I, her father, all bedabbled o’er 
In streaming rivers of her virgin gore, 

Stand by the altar with polluted hands ? 

O woe! woe! woe! ’ ” 

But when all was ready, tbe mailed chiefs who stood 
around 


“ Heard in silence stem 
Cries that called a father’s name, 

And set at naught prayers, cries and tears, 
And her sweet virgin life and blooming years." 


Then followed a solemn prayer, during which the victim 
•sinks to the ground in a swoon; and at length, on the word 
being given by her father, the priests lift her up, 


260 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


“ A nd bear her to the altar dread, 

Like a young fawn or mountain kid ; 

Then round her beauteous mouth they tie 
Dumb sullen bands to stop her cry, 

Lest aught of an unholy sound 
Be heard to breathe those altars round, 

Which on the monarch’s house might cast a spell.” 

THE POT OF OIL. 

From scenes of blood the narrative carries us to a quiet 
home in Israel. We enter a humble cottage, the habitation 
of w a woman of the wives of the sons of the prophets.” The 
naked walls, the barely furnished shelves, the poor little table 
with the wooden bench before it, and the pallet of straw in 
the unfurnished chamber, tell us plainly enough the poverty 
of the occupants. And we read the same story in the pale 
and care-worn visage of the poorly dressed woman who comes 
to meet us, with her eyes red with weeping. Her husband, 
the crown of her house, has long slept beneath the grassy hil¬ 
lock. An early death has taken him away. And his grave 
is ever wet with her tears. Still she hopes in the mercy of 
the Lord. She knows that He loves her, and has in reserve 
for her a palace, a crown of righteousness, white raiment, and 
who can tell what besides ? 

But now a fresh blow falls upon her. She experiences 
what it is to fall into the hands of unmerciful man, and this 
becomes the bitterest and harshest drop in the cup of her suf¬ 
fering. Her husband, on his dying bed, had only been able 
to commend her to the paternal protection of the Almighty. 
He left her in the deepest poverty—the little hut no doubt 
already mortgaged—and with debts weighing her down, and 
no means or prospect of paying them. How these debts arose, 
an ancient Hebrew tradition tells us. According to this, the 
poor woman is the widow of Obadiah, who, in the murderous 
persecution of the prophets by Jezebel, hid a hundred of them 
in caves and fed them with bread and water. When Jezebel 
learned this, she had him removed from office. He then took 


ELISHA. 


251 


up his abode in one of the schools of the prophets, in order to 
support himself by the labor of his hands, and to live entirely 
to the Lord and His cause. The debt which he left behind 
him proceeded from the expense of supporting the hundred 
brethren. He had hoped gradually to liquidate it from his 
income as an officer of the royal household, but when dis¬ 
missed, in the impoverished circumstances in which he was 
placed, he was able to pay only a part of it. 

Such is the ancient legend; and one thing we know, the 
poor widow is now in the utmost perplexity, and oppressed 
by a cruel creditor. She has already stripped her house of 
everything that is not indispensable, in order to satisfy him; 
and the sons of the prophets, poor themselves, have contribu¬ 
ted according to their ability. But the sum is not made up, 
and her children are about to be made slaves. This was ac¬ 
cording to the law, not merely of the Hebrews, but of most 
ancient nations. Parents, in their poverty, sold their off¬ 
spring ; and creditors seized the children of their debtors as 
freely as their cattle and movables. The right in the one 
case grew out of the other; the right of the creditor from 
that of the father. There is no instance in any nation of a 
creditor being empowered to seize children, where the parent 
himself did not possess the right of selling them. 

As the prophet was passing along the highway, the woman 
cried to him. Had Elisha come to be followed by a crowd 
in his progress through popular places? Yes, what more 
natural ? A man who had had three kings bringing their 
humble petition to his tent; one who had done many wonders, 
and not long previous had saved a whole army from destruc¬ 
tion, may well be supposed to have had his footsteps followed 
and h^s words and actions scanned, and his helping hand re¬ 
quested by not a few. When the tidings spread that Elisha 
was coming, there would be forthwith a growing assemblage 
of old and young, bent upon seeing the man of whom such 
strange things were told, and to whom were ascribed such 


252 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


wonderful powers. And the poor lone widow could only 
expect to be heard by crying from the outside of the throng. 
But amid all the din and babel of the great concourse—amid 
urgent petitions for his influence with the great, and the noisy 
expostulations of those who wished to be forward but were 
kept back—the widow’s cry of distress reached the inner¬ 
most circle, and fell upon the ear of him whom all had come 
forth to see. One may fancy the prophet standing still, arrested 



DAMASCUS. 


by such a cry of genuine earnestness and sharp affliction as 
could not have been counterfeited. And was there not some¬ 
thing familiar in the tones of that voice? The words of the 
narrative seem to imply that Elisha had known the woman 
and her husband. He tells her what to do. But first he inquires 

what she has in the house. She had applied to him for help_ 

as people ought always to feel free to apply to the ministers 
of God in temporal as well as spiritual distresses. She had 
opened her heart to him, and he enters at once with full compre- 





ELISHA. 


253 


hension and sympathy into her case. “ You tell me you are 
involved—a creditor is driving you to the wall—now what 
are your assets?” “ And she said, Thine handmaid hath not 
anything in the house save a pot of oil.” And now, as so 
often iii the miraculous interventions of the sacred history, 
something right at hand is made the starting-point or key¬ 
note of the miracle. The prophet takes what she has , and uses 
it to accomplish his purpose—like a good financier, skillfully 
turning to account whatever she has in stock, and making 
preparations to meet her liabilities. He tells her to borrow 
all the vessels she can, and out of her little pot there shall 
come oil enough to fill them. And so she goes to work her¬ 
self, and sends round her sons borrowing—and we may be 
sure those boys were lively that day, and very bold and brazen¬ 
faced borrowers, when they knew that on their success de¬ 
pended their own exemption from slavery. If they got ves¬ 
sels enough they would be free—otherwise they would be 
sold into bondage. They would visit every house in the 
neighborhood, far or near, and take no refusal. 

And now the floors of the cottage are covered with vessels, 
and the miracle begins. What a moment of rejoicing when 
the golden stream commences to flow! As the mother pours, 
Vessel after vessel is brought by the sons, and almost instantly 
filled. It is as if a fountain of oil were bubbling up in the 
pitcher. When the sons place one pan or jar under the yel¬ 
low stream, they must have another at hand, for the oil flows 
on without cessation. And every filled vessel, and every 
drop of the flowing oil, represents some portion of the 
price to be paid for their deliverance; it is equivalent to 
striking off a link from the chain of their servitude. But 
all that they can perceive of the miracle is, that so long as 
there is an empty vessel there is ample store of oil to fill 
it—all coming apparently from the original slender store; 
but the manner of increase as imperceptible as that of the 
grain, which grows up by night and by day, whilst the eye 


254 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


which notes the progress can discern nothing of the process 
of growth. 

And so the oil approaches the brim of the last vessel, and 
the mother calls out, “ Bring me yet a vessel! ” And the 
sons reply, “There is not a vessel more.” And “then the oil 
stayed.” And beside herself with astonishment and thank¬ 
fulness and joy, the widow runs to the man of God, and al¬ 
most breathless with exultation tells him what great and 
glorious things she has experienced. And he says, “Go, sell 
the oil, and pay the debt, and live thou and thy children upon 
the rest.” And so her deliverance is accomplished; and the 
hour of her extremity proves only the time of God’s oppor¬ 
tunity. And so it is ever. God is the God of the fatherless 
and the widow. It is His office to succor the needy and the 
distressed. Who art thou, O widow, 0 suffering one, whose 
eye is glancing over this page? “Hope thou in God.” Your 
heart is anxious about your children. Now if I were to tell 
you what is in store for them, you would not believe it. Lit¬ 
tle do you know of the houses which may even now be build¬ 
ing for them; or the warehouses which know them not as 
yet, but which one day may call them master; or the broad 
lands lying asleep under the stars, whilst you lie sleepless 
upon your pillow, which yet may come to be theirs by ways 
so unexceptionable that no one would need to blush under 
the sunshine in calling them by their name. 

But should God in His wisdom not bestow these things 
upon your children, if you are training them in the nurture 
and admonition of the Lord, one thing He will not withhold 
from them. He says, “ I will pour my Spirit upon thy seed 
and my blessing upon thy offspring.” That is better than if 
He had promised to pour upon them riches or honors. If 
they possess His Spirit, they shall have that which will enable 
them to bear life’s burdens and discharge its duties, and that 
Spirit will guide them safely to the heavenly home where 
you and they shall meet to part no more forever I 


ELISHA. 


255 


And thus, as the narrative progresses, we see how God in¬ 
tervenes, not for nations only, but for individuals. The 
kingdom of Israel, the great American people, may be dear 
to him, but not dearer than the humblest believer. The 
mightiest concerns of empires are held in His grasp, but no 
creature is so insignificant as to be beneath His notice. Be 
your lot the most obscure, Jesus with His human heart and 
His Divine compassion is regarding you, and all the treasures 
of Omnipotence are pledged for your security from real harm. 
What seems to be evil may come nigh you, but the event 
will prove that it is only good disguised, and the light affliction 
which is but for a moment will work out for you a far more 
exceeding and eternal weight of glory. 

THE SHUXAMMITE. 

Near the center of the Promised Land, a few days’ jour¬ 
ney upward from Jerusalem, a plain stretches itself from 
the sea-coast to the vine-crowned banks of the Jordan. It is 
extensive, interrupted only by single eminences, and parti¬ 
ally intersected by the little river Kishon, and is a district, 
which, as regards fertility of soil, luxuriance of vegetation, 
and agreeableness of climate, has scarcely its equal on the 
face of the earth. Here, in the pleasing vicinity of ever¬ 
green olive woods, and waving fields of grain, we find the 
quiet, pleasant and prosperous town of Shunem, four miles 
from the royal residence of Jezreel. It is an aristocratic 
place, and the Shunammite is of high family and large wealth, 
but she has a humble, godly heart. She recognizes Elisha as 
God’s minister when it is very unfashionable and somewhat 
hazardous to do so. Jehoram’s court, with his mother Je¬ 
zebel to set the fashions, is not a very encouraging neighbor¬ 
hood to piety. But this noble woman greets Elisha from a 
pure heart of sympathy, when the holy man on his circuits 
passes through Shunem. And it is a greeting of the Gaius 
style. He must come in and take dinner. And she tells 


256 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


him, Whenever you come this way make our house your 
home. w And so it was, that as oft as he passed by, he turned 
in thither to eat bread.” 

THE PROPHET’S CHAMBER. 

But the good woman is not satisfied with this. Her hus¬ 
band must give his consent to build a fine apartment on the 
top of the house, furnished with every convenience of the 
day, on purpose for the prophet’s use. “ Let us make a little 
chamber, I pray thee, on the wall; and let us set for him 
there a bed, and a table, and a stool, and a candlestick; and 
it shall be when he cometh to us, that he shall turn in thither.” 
And now it is a very common thing to see the prophet on 
the streets of Shunem, on his travels through the land, vis¬ 
iting the schools of the prophets, or on his way to his moun¬ 
tain closet—the summit of Carmel—for a season of repose 
and converse with God. Dusty and travel-stained, an itiner¬ 
ant and a missionary, no unworthy forerunner of Him “who 
went about doing good.” he from time to time appears 
and whosoever meets him stands still, and with reverence 
salutes him. Even the children, on perceiving him, 
cease their play until he has passed by them, or else hasten 
toward him, and stretch out their little hands to him. With 
paternal warmth he returns the salutation right and left, and 
passes on to a house, which by its delightful situation and 
friendly exterior, distinguishes itself from the other habita¬ 
tions of the place—the abode of the “ great woman ” of our 
narrative. She meets him at the door, and with reverential 
kindness bids him welcome, and as often as he lodges there, 
it seems to this estimable woman and her family as if the lit¬ 
tle edifice has suddenly become a temple and a sanctuary— 
the house of God, and the very gate of heaven. Every coun¬ 
tenance looks more friendly. They know that the holy man 
stands in a more wondrous, close, and intimate connection 
with Jehovah than themselves; and often it seems as if Je 
hovah has taken up His abode with them. 


ELISHA. 


257 


THE GRATEFUL GUEST. 

How comfortable is this for Elisha! Ministers are not often 
provided for so bountifully. It is well they are not, for not 
being all Elishas, they might grow lazy and worldly with such 
luxuries about them. Elisha feels grateful to this great-hearted 
saint, shining like a star of heaven in the pandemonium of 
Jezebel. She has entertained him with such kind and liberal 
hospitality, she has evinced such a consideration and concern 
for his habits and tastes, that he feels bound to make himself 
useful in any way he can to those by whom he has been so 
kindly treated. The woman may feel herself honored, and 
may find her own reward, in attending to the wants of one 
whom she perceives to be a man of God; but it behooves 
Elisha to show at least a desire to make some return. Ac¬ 
cordingly he suggests to her that he might obtain promotion 
for her husband in the court or in the army, and then she 
could glitter by the very side of the throne. Since the won¬ 
derful victory over the Moabites, the prophet is in great credit 
at court; the king feels under obligations to him, and an 
intercession oil his part with Jehoram or his minister, would 
certainly not be without effect. “ Behold thou hast been care¬ 
ful for us with all this care; what is to be done for thee ? 
Wouldst thou be spoken for to the king, or to the captain 
of the host ? And she answered, “ I dwell among mine own 
people.” What a beautiful answer! She had no wish to 
change her situation. Her position and wealth brought her 
necessarily in contact with the wicked royalty of Israel. But 
she wished to see no more of it than she must. Her soul ab¬ 
horred it. Even though the Lord’s prophet proposed it, she 
would none of it. Evil is to be rejected, even though an angel 
offer it. 

The house lacks the greatest ornament. Chandeliers and 
couches and curtains are there, but there’s no dear little child. 
Oh! if she had a child, what a joy would enter her heart! 
Gehazi, the scamp, suggests the thought to Elisha. The Lord 
17 


258 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


makes His mercy to run along strange channels. A lying 
thief like Gehazi may be used of God to carry a blessing. 
Elisha calls the woman and promises this boon. She is al¬ 
most Sarah over again at the news, but not quite. There is 
faith in her answer. That heart of hers tasted a new joy 
when she heard the baby cry, and the little treasure was 
nestled in her bosom. 1 

The example of the hospitable Shunammite explains to us 
the words of our Lord Jesus: “He that receiveth a prophet 
in the name of a prophet, shall receive a prophet’s reward. 
And he that receiveth a righteous man in the name of a 
righteous man, shall receive a righteous man’s reward. And 
whosoever shall give to drink unto one of these little ones a 
cup of cold water only in the name of a disciple, verily, I say 
unto you, he shall in no wise lose his reward.” If we are able 
to perceive the Divine radiance shining through the mean attire 
and lowly form which His children wear, if we show any 
kindness or affection, be it little or much, to one of His peo¬ 
ple, the Lord will reward us for it, and will bestow upon us 
something of that fullness of heavenly blessing which He 
promises to pour upon the righteous. 

DEATH AND LIFE. 

The years pass on, the world’s affairs run their course, and 
the man of God when he comes to Shunem, turns in with 
something of a home feeling, and occupies his chamber upon 
the wall. But life must have its storms, and our sharpest 
trials spring sometimes out of the chief sources of our earthly 
happiness, and so it happens with the Shunammite. Her 
child is well-grown, and has put on now those winning ways, 
which a stranger may overlook, but to which a mothers 
heart is so susceptible. He is able to run alone, and can be 
trusted to make his way by himself to familiar places. It is 
a bright summer morning, and he asks to go to his father, 


1 Crosby. 



ELISHA. 


259 


who is in the field with the reapers. The mother gives her 
permission, and sunshine is in her heart as she watches him 
along the path, and pictures his bright face among the golden 
sheaves. But her joy is soon checked. No sooner has he 
reached the field than he is smitten with the fierce rays of the 
sun. He cries to his father, “My head, my head I” Occu¬ 
pied with his harvest, and apparently regarding the illness 
as slight—perhaps, too, a man of cold and sordid temper, the 
father bids a servant take the child to his mother. Instead 
of clasping him in his arms and carrying him to the house 
himself, he does not even go near him all the day. 

But who can tell the alarm of the poor mother, as her 
little boy is brought to her, pale as a corpse, already half in¬ 
sensible, moaning with pain, and more dead than alive! 
With a wild cry of anguish she snatches him from the arms 
of the servant, lays him in her lap, and seeks to warm him 
in her bosom, and while the field rings with the merry laugh 
and careless song of the reaper, she sits at home with a heavy 
heart looking down sadly upon the little one’s distress, stir¬ 
ring the golden hair upon his throbbing temples with her 
sighs. And so the hours of the morning wear away. The 
joy of harvest is without, but the desolation of winter reigns 
within. At noon he dies in her arms. For a space she 
holds him in her impassioned embrace, then turns in her 
grief to God. “ She went up and laid him on the bed of the 
man of God, and shut the door upon him and went out.” He 
was God’s gift, given through the promise and the prayer 
of the prophet, and to God she surrenders him, and in this 
act, too, still links him with her beloved and honored 
guest, Elisha. But mingling with her devout submission is 
the hope that he who gave will restore. Through Elijah the 
widow’s son had been raised from the dead, and might not 
her darling be restored by Elisha! With God all things are 
possible, and she will try. But still she utters no complaint. 
There is no repining, no questioning the goodness of God. 


260 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


To every inquiry she answers, “ It is well.” The Lord gave 
her a child when she expected none. He has reclaimed the 
boon He lent, and her heart is ready to break. Looking upon 
her sorrow, in His infinite goodness He may give her back 
her dead. The little chamber, consecrated to pious uses, 
given to God and His prophet without desire of earthly re¬ 
ward, may witness another miracle like that which in the last 
generation gladdened the humble cottage of the widow of 
Zarephath. But in any event, “ It is well.” The Judge of all 
the earth doeth right. Jehovah gives and takes away, and 
blessed be the name of Jehovah. 

She sends to her husband for an attendant to go with her 
to the prophet. He does not understand why she wishes to 
go at such a time, when it is neither Sabbath nor new-moon, 
not the usual season for religious worship, but he puts no 
hindrance in her way. She hastens to depart. Elisha is 
away at Mt. Carmel, sixteen miles across the plain. With 
such driving as she used, she would be there in two hours. 
“And she said unto her servant, Drive, and go forward; slack 
not thy riding for me, except I bid thee.” When the prophet 
saw her coming, he said to Gehazi, “ Run to meet her, and 
say, Is it well with thee? Is it well with thy husband? Is it 
well with the child ? And she answered, It is well. And 
when she came to the man of God to the hill, she caught him 
by the feet; but Gehazi came near to thrust her away. And 
the man of God said, Let her alone, for her soul is vexed 
within her; and the Lord hath hid it from me, and hath not 
told me. Then she said, Did I desire a son of my lord ? did 
I not say, Do not deceive me ?” I was contented in my deso¬ 
lation, poor in affection, sitting in a childless house, , no child¬ 
ish feet pattering through the halls, no childish voice 
echoing in the chambers. Your promise caused a new 
hope to dawn upon me, and its fulfillment opened a foun¬ 
tain of joy in my heart. Was all this only the worst and 
most cruel of deception, exciting hopes but to blast them in 


ELISHA. 


261 


death, and giving me to taste of joys unknown before, only 
that the cup half-drained might be dashed from my lips, and 
my soul remanded to a solitude more cheerless and more 
desolate than that in which I dwelt before. 

The appeal fell upon no unfeeling ear or callous heart. The 
sound of her voice had not time to die upon the air, till Ge- 
hazi was despatched with the wonder-working staff, with 
strict orders to delay not by the way. “ Gird up thy loins, 
and take my staff in thy hand, and go back to Shunem. 
Hasten, and stay not on the way. If thou meet any one, sa¬ 
lute him not, and if any salute thee answer him not again. 
Ascend into the upper chamber, and lay my staff upon the 
boy’s face.” Elisha had faith that the God of Elijah would 
hear his prayer, and give back the child’s life. Some out¬ 
ward sign, however, was necessary to connect the restoration 
of life with the power of God working through his agency, 
and thus show the miraculous nature of the transaction. The 
use of means of some kind characterizes all the miracles of 
Scripture. The means employed may be such as can have no 
natural effect in producing the result; and of course this 
must always be so in the raising of the dead; but they must 
be used as a test of faith, and to show the connection of the 
result with the agency of the prophet or wonder-worker; and 
thus establish the truth of his claim that what is done is 
effected by the power of God, working outside of natural 
methods. 

But while the swift runner is sent with the staff, Elisha 
himself follows after, and meets Gehazi returning with the 
announcement that his efforts are unavailing: “The child is 
not awaked.” Then the prophet “ went in, and shut the door 
upon them twain, and prayed unto the Lord, and he went up 
and lay upon the child, and put his mouth upon his mouth, 
and his eyes upon his eyes, and his hands upon his hands; 
and he stretched himself upon the child, and the flesh of the 
child waxed warm.” “Then he returned, and walked in the 


262 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


house to and fro.” We may imagine him traversing the 
house, first in one direction and then in another, from room 
to room, forgetting himself, with folded hands and looks di¬ 
rected upward. 0 arduous conflict! He wrestles for the 
life of the child. His weapons are his fervent ejaculations, 
his sighs and his tears. How, indeed, heaven suffers violence 
and is taken by force. Prayer alternates with tender, earnest 
efforts for the restoration of the boy. He hastens back to 
the chamber, throws himself upon the corpse, clings to it. 
afresh, entreats and wrestles with such importunity as if he 
had really resolved to overcome God, or die at His feet. 

And now the boy shows first one sign and then another of 
returning life, and at last opens his eyes. Elisha sends for 
the Shunammite, and bids her take up her son. “ And she 
went in and fell at his feet, and bowed herself to the ground, 
and took up her son and went out.” Her faith was rewarded. 
Her husband seems to have been still engaged among his 
reapers, sharing neither her agony nor her joy. 

THE LAND RESTORED. 

Five years perhaps had passed away, when Elisha said to 
the Shunammite, “ Arise and go thou and thine household, 
and sojourn wheresoever thou canst sojourn; for the Lord 
hath called for a famine, and it shall also come upon the land 
seven years.” And so the woman lived for seven years in 
the country of the Philistines, and returning found that 
her house was occupied, and her lands in the possession of 
another. So she went forth to cry unto the king. Where 
the prophet was, we are not informed. But Providence slept 
not, although His minister might be absent. 

It seems that Jehoram, in bis better moods, was desirous to 
gain intelligence about the wonders done by Elisha. And one 
day he said to Gehazi, “Tell me, I pray thee, of all the great 
things that Elisha hath done.” So Gehazi told him of the 
raising of the dead, and as he was finishing his account, the 


ELISIIA. 


263 


woman herself drew near and cried to the king for her house 
and her land. And Gehazi said, “ My lord, 0 king, this is 
the woman and this is her son whom Elisha restored to life.” 
Greatly struck with the 
whole circumstances, the 
king, for once at least, 
commanded an act of 
justice to be done. Hav¬ 
ing heard from her own 
lips tho confirmation of 
what Gehazi had told 
him, he appointed unto 
her a certain officer, say¬ 
ing, “ Restore all that 
was hers, and all the 
fruits of the field since the 
day that she left the 
land until now.” Thus 
the woman was rein¬ 
stated in her possessions, and we hear of her no more. 

DEATH IN THE POT. 

“ And Elisha came again to Gilgal, and there was a dearth 
in the land, and the sons of the prophets were sitting before 
him; and he said unto his servant, set on the great pot, and 
seethe pottage for the sons of the prophets.” 

The little town of Gilgal lay in the lower provinces of 
Israel, and was the site of a flourishing school of the prophets, 
in the midst of a race much infected with idolatry. In tracing 
the life of Elijah, we accompanied him from Gilgal, by Bethel 
and Jericho, to his triumphal car, and crowning festival in the 
desert. How have the plains of Israel changed their appear¬ 
ance since then I Who could recognize the beautiful country 
we saw upon that journey! How has it become a barren 
waste ! Then we beheld waving grain-fields as far as the eye 









264 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


could reach. Heavy-laden wagons, breaking down almost 
with the produce of the harvest, passed before us on every 
road. The orange trees, as well as the vines, were scarcely 
able any longer to support the burden of their luxuriant 
fruit. In short, we met with nothing but marks of blessing 
and abundance in every direction, and there was scarcely any 
end, either day or night, to the exultings of the reapers and 
the binders of the sheaves, and the rejoicing of the vintagers 
upon the hills. But now a dreadful dearth has fallen upon 
the land. The fields lie scorched as if under a curse. The 
sickles hang rusting upon the walls, and famine already ha-s 
taken hold of a great part of the population. But Elisha 
continued to make his circuit. He was an itinerant; and 
probably he performed the whole of the weary way on foot, 
with no other support than the humblest fare, no other aid 
than the staff in his hand, no other shelter than Elijah’s man¬ 
tle, and no other companion than Gehazi his attendant and 
disciple. So Elijali had traveled before him; so a greater 
than either of these great prophets afterward traveled the 
self-same districts of country, weary and foot-worn, resting 
not from His labors till He breathed out His life on the cross. 

Arrived at Gilgal, Elisha’s little ’ flock present a mournful 
aspect. They have consumed the last remains of their 
limited stock of provisions. Their gardens are empty, as 
well as their purses. The effects of the dearth are visible on 
the pale faces that look up to the prophet as they gather 
about him to receive his instructions. And he is touched 
with sympathy for the pangs of hunger that have blenched so 
many cheeks which lately glowed with the hues of health, 
and quenched the light of so many ardent eyes, and caused so 
many in the morn of life to appear as if they had suddenly 
grown old. He speaks, consoles, encourages, and they eager¬ 
ly feed upon the words of life that flow from his lips in a 
refreshing stream. They feel happy in his company ; he is 
like a bright and genial star, which has arisen in the night of 


ELISIIA. 


265 


tlieir affliction. The shadows of care disperse before his 
cheering discourse, as fogs before the rays of the sun, and 
every eye again looks bright as he opens sweet vistas, un¬ 
known and peaceful retreats, in the temple of the Scriptures, 
the grand and far-reaching promises and covenanted blessings 
of Jehovah. 

And now, having given their hearts a different tone, he 
says in a cheerful mood to his servant, “ Set on the great pot, 
and seethe pottage for the sons of the prophets.” Compelled 
as they were now to forage in the fields, under the hedges, 
behind the fences, for herbs that were even but half eatable, 
one had gone out and found a wild vine, covered with beauti¬ 
ful egg-shaped fruit, which he took to be wild gourds. He 
returns with his prize, and empties his blanket full of these 
deadly vegetables (doubtless the colocynth, still to be found 
in that locality) into the great caldron. But no sooner have 
they begun their meal, than the presence of something noxious 
is detected, and they cry out, “ O thou man of God, there is 
death in the pot l” But the frugal little feast was only mo¬ 
mentarily interrupted, for Elisha said, “Then bring meal. 
And he cast it into the pot. And he said, Pour out for the 
people, that they may eat. And there was no harm in the 
pot.” There could be nothing in the meal to neutralize the 
poison, and make the food wholesome and palatable. It was 
the outward sign t>f a supernatural effect, powerless in itself, 
but clothed with Divine efficiency when coupled with faith 
in God and used in obedience to His will, and in dependence 
upon His strength. And thus a dish of salt is sufficient to 
remove from a whole district the desolation of a thousand 
years. A spray broken from a~ tree makes the bitter foun¬ 
tains of Marah sweet and potable. A little clay, mixed with 
spittle, restores sight to a man born blind, and a drop of oil 
brings health to the dying. The healing power of every 
medicine depends upon one ingredient, which must not be 
wanting, and that is the blessing of God. 


266 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


But the means employed in these miracles are worthy of 
our closest scrutiny. They are little links, connecting the 
ordinary course of nature with the marvelous interpositions 
of God, and manifestations of His power. They do not make 
the supernatural less wonderful, but they make it more in¬ 
structive and more interesting. They afford a revelation of 
God’s character, whilst letting forth a coruscation of His 
power; and they are gentle inclines by which, from the 
level of every-day, we may ascend toward the throne of 
an ever-wakeful, ever-working Omnipotence,—gangways or 
bridges by which our feeble steps may cross over from the 
frail barque of our own existence—circumscribed, mist- 
bounded—to the ever-adjacent mainland of the infinite and 
the eternal. 

The children of the prophets did not stumble at the trifling 
nature of the remedy used by Elisha. They knew that it is 
God’s method to make inferior things the vehicles of His mi¬ 
raculous power. He that despises that which is inconsider¬ 
able, is not fit for the kingdom of God, where the King and 
Mediator is crowned with thorns; where blood is the propitia¬ 
tion ; and where fishermen and publicans appear as the offi¬ 
cers and interpreters of the Supreme Majesty. The faith of 
the disciples of Elisha was not put to shame. Partaking of the 
food there was “ no harm ” in it. And so faith is always 
crowned. The angel of the covenant dislocated Jacob’s thigh, 
but not his arms, by which he held him fast and clung round, 
his neck. And spiritually, believers ten thousand times re¬ 
peat this miracle in their own experience. Abiding in Christ, 
for them there is nothing any longer destructive, baneful, or 
soul slaying. Sin is a deadlier poison than colocynth, but its 
power is neutralized and overcome in the members of Christ. 
0 blissful security of God’s children, against whom every ar¬ 
row is blunt, every sword is notched ; and that which seeks 
their injury, promotes their salvation against its will—even 
the devil performs for them only the office of an apprentice 


ELISHA. 


261 


in tlie dispensary of the Great Physician, in which he prepares 
salutary powders, and concocts beneficial mixtures. 

A FRIEND IN NEED. 

From the next incident that is recorded it would seem that 
the famine still continued. 11 And there came a man from 
Baal-shalisha, and brought the man of God bread of the first 
fruits, twenty loaves of barley, and full ears of corn in the 
husk thereof. And he said, give unto the people, that they 
may eat! And his servitor said, What, should I set this be¬ 
fore an hundred men ? He said again, Give the people that 
they may eat; for thus saith the Lord, They shall eat, and 
shall leave thereof. So he set it before them, and they did 
eat and left thereof, ac¬ 
cording to the word of 
the Lord.” This miracle 
reminds us of similar 
passages in the life of 
Christ, the feeding of 
the multitudes in the 
desert. It teaches us 
that although our por¬ 
tion of worldly goods be 
but small, we should not 
refuse to share what we 
have with the needy. 

It shows us the blessed¬ 
ness and omnipotence of 
faith. 

The following incident is narrated of the Eev. Mr. Henke. A 
Christian friend came one day to see him, and was asked 
to dine. When the bell rang at noon, the servant passed 
through the room several times with an anxious countenance, 
in order unobservedly to beckon her master out. The min¬ 
ister only reminded her that it was time to lay the cloth. She 
was perplexed and went out, but immediately returned, and re- 



268 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


quested her master to step out for a moment. “ Sir,” said 
she, “ don’t you know that we have scarcely even a crust in 
the house, and you sent your last penny to a sick person to¬ 
day ! ” “ Ah,” rejoined Henke, with a smile, “ is that all you 

have to say to me ? Lay the cloth as usual. It will be time 
enough for the meat when we sit down to the table.” And 
so the table is spread. Dishes, plates, spoons and forks are 
duly placed. “ Let us take our seats,” said the host, with a 
cheerful countenance. They sit down to the empty table, and 
the worthy child-like man offers up a prayer, in which men¬ 
tion is made of the fowls of the air, the young ravens, and 
many other things. And on his saying “ amen! ” the door¬ 
bell is rung. The servant hastens out, and there is a basket 
with abundance of food. A neighbor had felt constrained to 
send it. Calmly, and as if nothing uncommon or unexpected 
had occurred, the good man ordered the dishes to be placed on 
the table, and looking smilingly at the astonished housekeeper, 
said,“Well have you still anything to object to our kind en¬ 
tertainer? ” 

But we must not imitate the conduct of Henke or Eli¬ 
sha, till we have their faith. It is easy to order the cloth 
to be laid, but nothing is accomplished by that alone. One 
thing, however, is for us all to do; while we seek in the 
sweat of our brow to earn our bread, to trust unfalteringly in 
that kind Providence who finds the bird his food, and is alike 
the support of the worm that crawls in the dust, the insect 
that floats in the sunbeam, and the seraph that burns before 
His throne. 

THE HEBRBW MAID. 

In one of the frequent, forays which marauding companies 
of Syrians made into the land of Israel for purposes of insult 
and plunder, they carried away captive a little maiden, who 
appears to have belonged to one of the few families that, in 
the midst of wide-spread degeneracy, had remained faithful 
to the God of their fathers. Perhaps in the division of the spoils 


ELISHA. 


269 


on their return, she had been allotted to the Syrian household 
in which we find her. Or we may imagine the beautiful and 
timid captive exposed for sale in the crowded slave-market 
of Damascus, and in this way becoming a domestic attendant 
upon the wife of Naaman the Syrian. 

This man, distinguished for personal valor and for signal 
military successes which had made the whole land his debtor, 
was the commander-in-chief of the armies of Syria, and the 
confidential adviser of his king, to whom he stood nearest in 
rank and power. It is natural to picture him as living in a 
palace, in the midst of one of those orchards of apricots, 
pomegranates and other trees which, for three thousand years, 
have made Damascus the garden of the East. But what em¬ 
bittered all his enjoyments, and withered all the beauty of the 
paradise by which he was surrounded, was the fact that he 
was afflicted with the terrible and loathsome disease of leprosy, 
so that, as good Bishop Hall has quaintly said, “ the basest 
slave in all Syria would not have changed skins with Naaman, 
had he gotten his office to boot.” 

He appears to have been a man of much natural generosity, 
and to have treated the little captive girl so kindly as to have 
gradually won her confidence and awakened her sympathy. 
We may conceive her to have looked on at first with affec¬ 
tionate but silent interest, to have seen the agents of super¬ 
stition trying all their charms, and the native physicians 
exhausting all their skill upon her master in vain; for still 
the fatal malady, which her Hebrew education had taught 
her to regard with peculiar dread and aversion, made steady 
progress, consuming his strength, and “ wasting his beauty 
like a moth,” and threatening soon to turn that splendid 
mansion into a house of mourning. Waiting from day today 
upon her mistress, she read in her countenance the darkening 
signs of anxiety and sorrow; and unable at length to repress 
the thoughts which had often risen in her mind, with affec¬ 
tionate artlessness she one day dropped the kind hint, “Would 


270 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


God my lord were with the prophet that is in Samaria ! for he 
would recover him of his leprosy.” 

Thus spake the little Hebrew maid. From the first mention 
of her case she is an object of interest, but how much more 
when she has opened her lips ! Few were her words, but they 
stamp the goodness, of her heart. And who shall tell how 
deeply the absence of this little maid was lamented, whose 
nature was so loving that she could thus feel for him who 
held her enslaved away so far from her native land and all her 
heart’s delight ? Perhaps a father or a mother bewailed her 
loss, and prayed that she might yet be restored; and little 
brothers and sisters wondered why she, the bright-eyed one 
who had led their dances, and whose voice had ever been to 
them as the sweetest music, was no longer heard or seen ; 
whilst at the mention of her name her father turned his head 
in silent anguish, and her mother’s eyes were filled with 
scalding tears. And many a time her thoughts must have 
turned to the pleasant scenes from which she had been torn 
away. That gentle heart could have been no stranger to home¬ 
sickness, and yet it was not easy for the natural hope and 
buoyancy of so young a heart to continue habitually repressed, 
and like the caged bird she could sing at times even in her 
bondage. 

It does not appear from the narrative that the wife of 
hTaaman put much faith in the words of the little Hebrew 
maiden. “ Mere childish prattle,” she might regard it, and 
more likely to distress the mind of her husband, and wound 
his feelings, than to suggest to him any succor. But one 
of the servants thought otherwise ; and a fortunate thing it 
was for Naaman, in more than one instance, that he was so 
well served. This servant went and told his lord, saying, 
“ Thus and thus said the maid that is of the land of Israel.” 
And when the thing reached the ears of Ben-hadad, he no 
sooner heard of the possibility of his favorite’s cure than he 
bethought himself of a right royal mode of having the matter 


ELISHA. 


an 

gone about without delay. “ Go to,” said he, “ I will send a 
letter to the king of Israel.” His idol-priests were entirely 
at his bidding; and he thought that his brother, the king of 
Israel, must needs possess a similar sway in his own domin¬ 
ions. “ What better method can there be of securing the 
services of the prophet of Israel than by writing to his 
prince ?” And while he asks the cure of his general and 
prime minister as a favor, he is quite willing to pay for it, 
for he sends a sum perhaps equivalent to $50,000 of our 
money. 

THE JOURNEY TO ISRAEL. 

And furnished thus with such ample credentials, and 
princely means of paying his way, the Syrian commander 
sets out for Samaria. Often before he has gone this way, 
but now he goes with a new purpose. It has been his cus¬ 
tom to take what suited him without asking any one’s leave; 
but now he is disposed to pay for what he wants, and will be 
glad to obtain it at any price. The almost extinguished hope 
of cure is revived in his breast, and this furnishes a motive 
more potent than any that ever stimulated him in his raids 
across the border. So onward he hastens with eager promptitude, 
and soon leaves the snowy peaks of Lebanon behind him. 
He travels in his chariot in a style appropriate to one who 
stands nearest in authority and dignity to the Syrian throne, 
with a numerous retinue of attendants, with bags of gold and 
silver, and with many changes of those rich festal garments 
which formed so much of the wealth of the East. The vine- 
covered hills of Samaria and the beautiful valley of the 
Jordan, which have more than once been the scene of his 
military forays, open peacefully before him, and seem to in¬ 
vite him onward. 

But why do his servants direct his chariot to the palace of 
the king, and not* to the humble cottage of the prophet? 
With his royal master he supposes, that while Elisha is to 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


2T2 

effect the cure, he must, like the enchanters and necroman¬ 
cers of his own country, be entirely under the king’s au¬ 
thority, and that the best way, therefore, to secure his inter¬ 
position, is first to obtain the king’s favor. He does not 
know that in spiritual matters Elisha acknowledges no mas¬ 
ter but God, that this is a province into which Jehoram must 
not dare to pass, and that it would be easier and safer to go 
into the thunder-cloud and command the lightning where to 
strike, than to intrude within the sacred circle where the 



THE JORDAN. 


prophet of Jehovah exercises his great and awful preroga¬ 
tive. 

When the letter of the Syrian monarch was read by his 
royal brother of Israel, its effect was to awaken in him in¬ 
dignation, surprise and alarm. “Now, when this letter is come 
unto thee, behold, I have therewith sent Naaman my servant 
to thee, that thou mayst recover him of his leprosy.” Head 
with the jealous eyes of one whose dominions had repeatedly 








ELISHA. 


273 


been invaded and ravaged by this very Ben-hadad, it seemed, 
in requiring him to do what was only possible for the hand of 
Omnipotence, intended to provoke new quarrels that should 
lead to new wars and humiliations. And so Jehoram, idolater 
though he was, rent his clothes, astonished by the blasphemy 
and confounded by the arrogant and overbearing unreason¬ 
ableness of such a demand. “ Am I God,” he exclaimed, “to 
kill and to make alive, that this man doth send unto me 
to recover a man of his leprosy ? Wherefore consider, I 
pray you, and see how he seeketh a quarrel against 
me?” 

What was thus transpiring in the royal mansion was not long 
in becoming known to Elisha. And before Naamanhad time 
to give vent to his feelings, as not only disappointed, but 
cruelly duped and mocked, the prophet’s servant was stand¬ 
ing in the presence of the king and delivering a message from 
his master, marked by all that simplicity and majesty which 
became a prophet of God, in which he at once rebuked the 
needless alarms of the king, and summoned the Syrian chief 
to the true place of cure. “ Wherefore hast thou rent thy 
clothes ? let him come now to me, and he shall know that 
there is a prophet in Israel. 

These words may, without strain or violence, be imagined 
by us to have been spoken by the Gospel of Christ, when in 
the ministry of our Lord and His apostles, it appeared in its 
full might and glory on the earth. Naaman the Syrian rep¬ 
resents our fallen race, leprous and wretched through sin and 
its woful fruits. Science, and human philosophy, and litera¬ 
ture, and government, and the arts, had all done their utmost 
for ages to make the poor leper better. But his worst wounds 
remained unbound and the seat of the malady unreached; 
and when all the experiments had failed, and all these human 
agents were at their wits’ end, Christianity came with its 
heavenly medicines, and its simple and sublime directions for 
cleansing from sin, and said, with a confidence which the his- 
18 


274 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


tory of the evangelized portion of our race has amply justi¬ 
fied, “Bring hither the leper to me.” 

NAAMAN BEFORE ELISHA. 

It is natural to suppose that Naaman would now return to 
his chariot, and resume his journey with more buoyant ex¬ 
pectations than ever; for the prophet’s words not only con¬ 
tained an invitation to come to him, but seemed to hold out 
a certain promise of cure. There was evidently, however, 
not a little in the state of his mind, as well as of his body, 
that needed to be corrected and healed. He appears to have 
counted much on the influence of the rewards which he brought 
with him, and still more on the imposing effect of his rank, 
and style, and retinue, and he expected, as he came up “with 
his horses and with his chariot” to the humble gate of the 
prophet, that he, the great Syrian lord, would be welcomed 
with no small show of deference. And what a sore disap¬ 
pointment it must have been to him, what a mortification to 
his pride, what a revulsion to everything that was heathen 
and even human within him, when there was no flutter or ex¬ 
citement whatever at his approach—when the prophet did not 
even come forth to receive him, but sent out a servant to him 
with the message, “Go and wash in Jordan seven times, and 
thy flesh shall come again to thee, and thou shalt be clean.” 

Indignant at the apparent indifference and disrespect with 
which he was treated, Naaman turned and went away in a 
rage. “Behold, I thought, he will surely come out to me, 
and stand, and call upon the name of the Lord his God, and 
strike his hand over the place, and recover the leper. Are 
not Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all 
the waters of Israel ? May I not wash in them and be clean ? ” 
And so he commanded his chariot away from the prophet’s 
gate, and all his fond hopes of cure seemed on the point of 
being wrecked and given to the winds. It was well for him 
that at such a crisis he had servants who, looking at the whole 


ELISHA. 


275 


matter more calmly, saw it in its true liglnt, and who loved 
him so well, and served him so faithfully, as not to fall in 
with his foolish humor or to flatter it, but respectfully to 
reason with him and persuade him to comply with the di¬ 
rection of the man of God. And it was better still that, after 
the first outbreak of his foolish anger was over, he began to 
see the wisdom of their words, and yielded to their faithful 
remonstrance, “My father, if the prophet had bid thee do 
some great thing, wouldst thou not have done it ? How much 
rather then when he saith to thee, wash and be clean ?” 

THE JORDAN. 

And so we follow him to the banks of the Jordan, to be 
the delighted witnesses of his cure. And when we call up 
the whole scene before our imagination, we shall not fail to 
see that the prescribed measure, easy though it seemed, was 
admirably fitted to put to the test the simple trust of Naaman 
in the word of the man of God. In all likelihood he expected 
that his recovery would be gradual, and that he would be 
made gratefully conscious of its progress, as he plunged the 
seven appointed times into the surging waves. But on 
six occasions he has already complied with the prophet’s words, 
and each time has risen to the surface before his anxious and 
breathless attendants on the river’s brink, sadly conscious 
that as yet there is no change, and with his leprosy clinging 
to him like a Nessus robe. With palpitating heart, he goes 
down the seventh time and is covered with the waters, and 
now he feels the sudden passage of a new life through his 
whole frame. He is “ changed in a moment, in the twinkling 
of an eye”; “ his flesh comes again to him like the flesh of a 
little child”; and he leaps forth upon the green sward with 
more than the glad buoyancy of youth, a leper no more ! 

Nor was his body alone the subject of a blessed change ; 
almost at the same moment he parted forever with his idola¬ 
try. It is astonishing how rapidly the mind works at certain 


276 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 



great crises of its history. We live an age in an hour. And 
it was so now with Naaman. He compared the utter impo¬ 
tence of the false gods with the omnipotence of Jehovah; 
he thought with glowing gratitude of the free, unbought 
sovereign mercy of God, which had visited him, a stranger 
and an idolater, with so great a deliverance; and he returned 
from the river’s bank to the prophet’s gate the rejoicing sub¬ 
ject of two blessed transformations, to avow his belief that 
the God of Israel was the only living and true God who 
made the heavens and the earth, and to bind himself by the 
most solemn vows to His service and worship forever. 

In token of his gratitude he requested the prophet to ac¬ 
cept of a remuneration suitable to his own rank and wealth, 
and to the vast obligations under which he lay to him who 
had been the agent in effecting his cure. And perhaps the 
attendants, never thinking that the princely gift of their be¬ 
loved master would be refused, and almost as grateful as him¬ 
self at the great deliverance, were already busy unloading 
the bags of gold and silver, and the rich garments, and pre¬ 
paring to carry them into the prophet’s house. But Elisha, 

however rejoicingat 
this exhibition of a 
proper appreciation 
by Naaman of the 
great benefits he had 
received, perempto¬ 
rily refused to ac¬ 
cept any compensa¬ 
tion for the service 
he had rendered, 
j ustly considering the 
leopard. gift of healing, which 

had been communicated to himself by God, as not to be 
bought with money, or employed as matter of traffic, but 
freely dispensed for His glory by whom it had been freely given. 


ELISHA. 


277 


The disinterested integrity of the prophet seems to have 
confirmed the Syrian’s faith in the God whom he served, and 
he departed with the resolution to offer sacrifice to no other, 
hut before leaving he makes two requests—that he might be 
allowed to take with him to his own country two mules’ bur¬ 
den of the earth of Israel; and that when his master Ben- 
hadad went into the house of Bimmon, the idol-god of Syria, 
to worship, and he leaned on his shoulder, he might be forgiven 
if he “bowed himself in the house of Bimmon.” The former 
wish might merely be the expression of a sentiment which is 
strong in human nature, and which is quite innocent when kept 
within proper bounds—the desire to have some object near 
us that may help to keep alive hallowed recollections, and 
that shall be as a link to associate our thoughts with what is 
loved and distant. Have you never contracted a special re¬ 
gard for some particular copy of the Bible, which is associated 
in your memory with interesting passages in your own spirit¬ 
ual history ? Have you never found your heart bettered by 
visiting the scenes of holy and heroic deeds, or even looking 
on the faded handwriting of one who, while he lived, had 
made the world his debtor ? Could you look without emotion 
on a vessel of water from the sea of Galilee or from the well 
of Samaria, or upon a branch that had been plucked from one 
of the old olive-trees in Gethsemane ? And if not, do not 
blame this grateful Syrian, that in departing from this sacred 
land, the place at once of his cure and of his conversion, he 
" took pleasure in her stones, and her very dust was dear to 
him.” 

In regard to the second of Naaman’s requests, it is enough 
to say that we do not find the prophet condemning him, and 
doubtless a higher than the prophet would say, as upon a 
subsequent occasion, K Neither do I condemn thee.” As the 
prime minister of Ben-hadad, he would be required to accom¬ 
pany him into the temple of Bimmon, and even to support 
his person and accommodate himself to its motions while he 


2Y8 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


worshiped there, and he wished Elisha to understand that 
in this there would be no homage on his part to the idol, but 
simply the discharge of a civil service to his royal master— 
and he wishes to know, before he passes from the prophet’s 
presence, whether this could be permitted. And Elisha’s 
answer is, “Go in peace.” 

GEHAZI. 

There was one present during this interview who regarded 
his master’s sublime self-denial with secret displeasure and 
strong disappointment. The servitor and disciple of Elisha, 
as Elisha had been of Elijah, his official position was no index 
of his spiritual state. Probably in all the train of Naaman 
there was not a heathen servant with a conscience so hard¬ 
ened and a heart so petrified as his. And yet in religious 
knowledge he was incomparably their superior, and while 
they were poor idolaters, he was the companion of the chief 
prophet of the age, and himself in training for the prophetic 
office. So true it is that we must look for the most wicked 
men in the world in the most sacred places—not beside bloody 
heathen altars, and not in the dens of vice in Christian lands, 
but ministering at the altar of Jehovah, and office-bearers in 
the kingdom of God. For the man who avowedly serves self 
and sin and Satan cannot become so stupefied and hardened 
and degraded as he who glosses over the service of the devil 
with a thin veneering of piety, and while self is the center 
and circumference of every plan and purpose, claims that he 
is doing all for the glory of God. Placed in the midst of 
great religious advantages, the man who continues insincere 
and acts a part—or who, though not consciously a hypocrite, 
yet under the guise of duty is animated not by love but by 
self-love, and prudently takes care of himself, and calls this 
maintaining the honor of Christ, and guarding the interests 
of the Church—must necessarily inflict a wound upon his 
moral nature greater even than that which is caused by open 
and undisguised immorality. Familiar with spiritual truth, 


ELISHA. 


279 


surrounded by spiritual appliances, professing to act from 
spiritual motives, and yet under tbe control of selfishness, he 
is, what the Saviour described the class as being, a whited 
sepulchre. 

Such was Gehazi, but it happened to him, what happens 
not to all of the class, to be rev ealed in his true character 
before death and the judgment. Naaman the Syrian’s bags 
of silver and gold, and rich changes of raiment, were the 
touchstone which disclosed the counterfeit, the Ithuriel spear 
which unmasked the whited devil, and showed the astonished 
prophet what a base person had been allowed by him for 
years to haunt his presence, to track his footsteps, and to 
share in his confidence. 

When Gehazi saw the noble and generous Naaman turning 
his chariot in the direction of his native Syria, and bearing 
away with him the splendid offerings untouched, he bitterly 
grudged the lost prize ; and, reckless of all the consequences 
to Elisha and his religion, resolved that if his master would 
not accept of some portion of the rich Syrian’s wealth which 
he might afterward share, he would find some method of 
making it his. He swears that whatever the man of God hath 
done, he shall not be prevented from grasping the golden 
shower which seems ready to drop from the hands of the 
Syrian. “ Behold my master hath spared Naaman, in not re¬ 
ceiving at his hands that which he brought; but as the Lord 
liveth I will run after him, and take somewhat of him.” The 
moment the grateful Syrian perceives that he is following 
after, he commands his chariot to halt, and paying respect to 
the prophet in the person of his servant, alights and hastens 
back to meet him with the question, “ Is all well.” 

The villain was ready with his well-feigned lie. Two poor 
scholars of the prophets had that moment arrived from their 
college on Mount Ephraim, craving assistance both for them¬ 
selves and their brethren, which Elisha was not in circum¬ 
stances to supply, and now he had sent him to say that he 


280 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


was willing to accept of a portion of the gifts which Naaman 
had so freely offered and so earnestly pressed upon him, to 
the extent of a talent of silver and two changes of garments. 

The request was a large one, but it was exceeded by 
Naaman’s grateful generosity. For binding two talents of 
silver in two bags, accompanied by two changes of garments, 
he laid them upon the shoulders of two of his own servants, 
who bare them before Gehazi to a secret place or store-house 
in a hill near to the prophet’s dwelling. There the hypocrite 
safely deposited them until he should find an early opportu¬ 
nity of appropriating them to his own use; and his heart 
exulted in the success of his scheme, and glossed over, as is 
usual in like cases, the baseness of the artifice of which he had 
been guilty. Why should he reproach himself for what had 
thus enriched him, without injuring any one? The wealthy 
Syrian could never miss two poor talents of silver ; besides he 
had offered them, and seemed gratified that he had been eased 
of them ; and if not, pity it had been if the proud heathen had 
not paid for his cure. Then as to his master, how could his 
character suffer in the estimation of Naaman or his servants, 
or any one else, from being supposed to have begged a small 
part of what he had been offered before, and that not for him¬ 
self* but for two poor young men who had come to his house? 
At all events, no one could ever know of it. Naaman and his 
servants suspected no imposition, and were gone into a far 
country, never to return, and no other eye had seen, or ear 
heard. Now was he happily placed, by his own shrewdness, 
in a condition to enjoy all that his heart desired. Soon would 
he be the happy proprietor of lands, and houses, and flocks 
and servants. 

And thus he thought with himself, while a foul and varied 
progeny of sin had been begotten in his heart of the lust of 
money. There was the deliberate and plausibly-constructed 
falsehood told to Naaman, showing him no novice in decep¬ 
tion, but skillful and prompt through long practice in the 


ELISHA. 


281 


black art of lying. There was the act of theft, from which his 
hardened heart did not shrink, even when the magnanimous 
gratitude of Naaman gave him double what his rapacity 
asked; and there was the base unfaithfulness to his kind 
master Elisha, whose heart had confided in him for so many 
years ; and there was the treachery to the cause of religion, 
in taking away from Naaman’s miraculous cure its character 
of generosity, throwing 
an air of selfishness 
around the deed of 
merey, and disturbing 
the favorable impres¬ 
sions which had been 
made upon the Syrian’s 
mind. 

And was there in¬ 
deed no eye that saw 
the rapacious deed, no 
ear that heard the lying 
tongue ? “ Whence com- 
est thou, Gehazi?” said his master. The answer which 
usually falls from the lips of the conscience-stricken fool 
dropped from Gehazi; “ Thy servant went—nowhither.” He 
is ready with the second lie to buttress the first. “And went 
not my heart with thee, when the man turned again from his 
chariot to meet thee ? Was this an occasion to receive money, 
and to receive garments, with olive-yards and vineyards and 
sheep and oxen and man-servants and maid-servants ?” Forth, 
O deceiver, from my presence. But, ere going, take MY gift, 
as thou hast taken Naaman’s. He gave thee two talents of 
silver, which may support thee for a few years ; my present 
will last thee for life, and be handed down as an heirloom to 
thy seed. Thou hast taken the money; take now the stamp 
with it. Let the Syrian’s leprosy follow his lucre. K The 
leprosy of Naaman shall cleave unto thee, and unto thy seed 



WASHING BEFORE OR AFTER A MEAL. 





282 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


forever.” And speechless, confounded, feeling the white heat 
of the fell disease beginning to burn upon his brow, he less 
goes than vanishes from the prophet’s presence, 11 a leper as 
white as snow.” 

The means of discovery here were supernatural. All the 
incidents of the scene, and even the workings of his servant’s 
mind, were revealed to the prophet. But there are many ways 
in which deeds of darkness may become known to our fellow- 
men, “ and that which was done in secret be proclaimed upon 
the housetops.” There is an infatuation connected with 
crime which generally makes it leave a clue for its own de¬ 
tection. It is sometimes as if the very birds of the air told 
the matter. Some expression dropped in a moment of 
thoughtlessness, some undestroyed writing, the ravings of de¬ 
lirium, and even in some instances overdone efforts at con¬ 
cealment, have torn aside the veil from deeds of violence or 
fraud and brought the transgressor to an ignominious doom. 

But even when crimes succeed in eluding human detection, 
there are eyes that see, and a resistless hand that will one day 
bring every work into judgment. Two witnesses you have, 
0 man, to every act: God and your own conscience. There 
is one sleepless eye that follows us everywhere and forever. 
And when conscience becomes feeble as a judge, it continues 
incorruptible and faithful as a witness. 

Perhaps Gehazi had tried to palliate his sin and apologize 
for it to his conscience, by the plea of providing for his fam¬ 
ily ; just as men every day make this the apology for acts of 
moral obliquity. In this instantaneous judgment, let men see 
what sort of inheritance it is that sin bequeaths to children. 

ABANA AND PHARPAR. 

Ignorant of what was transpiring behind him, Naaman 
makes his way homeward to his beautiful Damascus. There 
was much in the Syrian metropolis of which he might well 
be proud. Hor do we wonder that his patriotism and his anger 


ELISHA. 


283 


had alike been kindled to a white heat when bidden to bathe 
in the muddy waters of the Jordan, in preference to the pure 
and salubrious streams which irrigated the orchards and gar¬ 
dens of Damascus. This city is situated in a plain of vast 
size and of extreme fertility, lying east of the great chain of 
Anti-Libanus, on the edge of the desert. This fertile plain, 
which is nearly circular, and about thirty miles in diameter, 
owes its productivness to the river Abana (now known as the 
Barada), which, with the Pharpar, forms the “ rivers” of the 
province “ of Damascus.” Thus the city of Damascus, upon 
the margin of the desert, almost surrounded with hopeless, 
remediless sterilit}', is supplied with waters more copious, 
more universally diffused, more pure, cool and refreshing, than 
those of any city in the world. The Abana, rising high up 
on the western flank of the Anti-Libanus, forces its way 
through the chain. Running for some miles, brawling, roar¬ 
ing, tearing among the mountains, it plunges into a stupend¬ 
ous gorge, between cliffs several hundred feet in height, the 
mountain towering a thousand feet above them. Struggling 
on five miles farther through wild mountain gorges, it is 
joined by its larger and principal source from the fountain of 
Fijih. This river gushes out from the base of a mountain 
which rises up in steepest acclivities two or three thousand 
feet, forming one of the loftiest summits of this mountain 
range. An arch fifteen to twenty feet in height, of massive 
masonry, in some unrecorded age, has been thrown over the 
fountain-head of the river; and above the arch, and embrac¬ 
ing the space of it, stands an ancient temple, constructed of 
enormous blocks of hewn stone, and bearing the marks of 
great antiquity. It may have been in its splendor in the days 
of Baalbec and Palmyra. From under this temple and arch 
the waters leap out in furious jets, bounding, roaring, tearing 
along like a wild, ravenous beast bursting from his cage—all 
foam and uproar. The waters of this river, springing from 
the snow-clad summits of the mountain, which neither the 


284 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


foot of man, nor beast, nor bird has defiled, are pure as heaven, 
cold as ice, and clear as crystal. In a stream thirty feet wide, 
four or five deep, swift as a waterfall, which no man ever 
forded, in which none ever bathed, this river joins and swal¬ 
lows up that from the upper fountain. It is at once the swift¬ 
est, clearest, coldest, shortest river in the world. 

DAMASCUS. 

From this point the river flows rapidly on, over a bed of 
rock, amidst plantations of figs^ pomegranates, vines and olives, 
every little valley or gentle slope being cultivated, till it 
breaks through a cleft in the mountain, upon the open country 
eastward—at the distance of two or three miles from Damascus, 
and a few hundred feet above the level of the city. The 
river, divided into numerous channels, and again subdivided 
into innumerable streams and rills, permeates every street and 
lane of Damascus, opening fountains and jets of water in the 
courts of every house, diffusing through all the city a delight¬ 
ful freshness and fragrance, and imparting health and happi¬ 
ness to every household. And everywhere, within and without 
the city, for miles in extent, it has evoked an exuberant 
luxuriance of vegetation, a verdure more deep and rich, and 
a profusion of fruits more abundant than in any land or clime 
on earth. Viewed in the distance, from one of the barren 
buttresses of the mountain, the city lies embowered and 
bathed in a perfect sea of verdure, its white minarets rising 
above the trees that embosom them, surmounted by their 
gilded crescents gleaming in the splendor of Oriental sunlight, 
as if some happy island of the blest had dropped down from 
above on the desert plain below. On the south towers the 
snowy height of Hermon, overlooking the whole scene. All 
around you are the caverns and tombs of Mussulman saints. 
Above rise the mountains, bare, sterile aud forbidding as the 
peaks of Sinai itself, the very seat of desolation ; and below 
the desert plain, yet more desolate, by contrast with the island 


ELISHA. 


285 


lake of deepest verdure which it encompasses. Here on this 
platform, Mohammed, on his way to Damascus, is said to have 
gazed long upon the wondrous scene, and then, turning back, 
to have said, “ No, I will not descend to that city. Man can 
have but one paradise, and my paradise is fixed above.” 

A traveler says, “ The lovely city of Damascus surpassed 
all I had hitherto seen. It has the appearance of one vast 
garden studded with houses, for every house is built in the 
midst of a garden; and it well deserves all the encomiums 
bestowed upon it. The mosques and bazaars surprise the 
traveler by their beauty ; nor is his astonishment less excited 
by the riches displayed in the street called ‘ Straight,’ where 
all kinds of Eastern and Western produce can be had—stuffs, 
velvets, Cashmere shawls, Damascus silks, and every descrip¬ 
tion of fresh and preserved fruits. Then, the bustle of the 
caravans arriving from all parts of the East, the turbans, the 
noble families, the wealth of the place, the caravansaries, all 
combine to form a dazzling and bewildering scene. The cos¬ 
tume of the men on the streets is rich and varied. Great 
numbers of pleasure-hunters are at all times found lounging 
in the cafes, drawing their pipes and hubble-bubbles, sipping 
coffee, swallowing sherbet, sucking sweetmeats, bolting fruits, 
and above all talking scandal. Some of these cafes are in the 
most frequented streets; and some of them, tolerably good 
imitations of rustic bowers, are in the gardens, where abund¬ 
ance of shade and verdure, and artificial waterfalls, and play¬ 
ing fountains, conspire to enhance the luxuries which they 
afford.” Such is Damascus, which, from the time when Ben- 
hadad’s prime minister journeyed to Samaria to be cured of the 
leprosy, has been a center of wealth and luxury in the East. 
But resuming our narrative, the next incident that meets us 
in the life of Elisha is that of 

THE BORROWED AXE. 

Elisha had sent away the Syrian with his $50,000 ; and yet 
he and those who were associated with him needed the money 


286 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


badly enough. Their accommodations, plain and simple 
as they were, were too strait for them; and they were 
about to put up a log-house, such as the early settlers of our 
own country were quite familiar with, and such as the pioneers 
in the newer portion of the country are still accustomed to 
rear. Even the tools they used were in part borrowed, and 
as one was fetching a hearty stroke, in felling timber, his axe- 
head fell into the water. “ Alas, Master ! for it was borrow¬ 
ed,” he exclaimed. “ And the man of God said, Where fell 
it ? And he showed him the place, and he cut down a stick 
and cast it in thither, and the iron did swim. Therefore said 
he, Take it up to thee. And he put out his hand and took it.” 



RECLINING AT TABLE. 


elisha’s safeguard. 

We have a very noble display, both of the might of that 
supernatural influence which the prophet possessed, and of 
his magnanimity toward his mortal enemies when caught 
in their own snare, in his treatment of the Syrian host who 
were sent out for the purpose of surprising and seizing him. 
Dismayed at the appearance of this band, with horses and 
chariots encompassing the city where they dwelt, the servant 
of the prophet gave way to despair, until his eyes being 
opened, he beheld the “ mountain full of horses and chariots 
round about Elisha.” Smitten with sudden blindness, the 




ELISHA. 


287 


hostile troops were conducted by the prophet within the walls 
of Samaria, and delivered up prisoners to the king of Israel, 
lie, with cowardly eagerness, proposed to put them to death. 
‘‘Shall I smite them? shall I smite them?” But Elisha 
stayed his hand. “ Wouldst thou smite those who are taken 
captive ? Set bread and water before them, that they may 
eat and drink, and return to their master.” 

SAMARIA BESIEGED. 

The subsequent deliverance of the metropolis of Israel from 
the accumulated horrors of siege and famine, forms another 
remarkable passage of Elisha’s life. When the people were 
reduced to the utmost necessity, the king vowed vengeance 
against the prophet, who had warned him of the evils hang¬ 
ing over him, and whose counsels he had despised. Elisha 
foresaw, and informed the king, that although all humarl help 
was vain, the Lord was about to send deliverance, and that 
even to-morrow provisions should be so plentiful as to be of 
little value. To this announcement a certain lord, “ on whose 
hand the king leaned,” replied, with an impious sneer, “ Be¬ 
hold, if the Lord would make windows in heaven, then might 
this thing be.” And Elisha said, “ Thou shalt see it with 
thine eyes, but thou shalt not eat thereof.” How easy it was 
for the power of the Lord to accomplish such a thing as this, 
the event showed. 

THE DESERTED TENTS. 

No aDgel drew forth a sword of flame to consume the 
armies of Syria, no lightning fell on them from heaven, no 
earthquake was employed to swallow up their camp. “ The 
Lord made them to hear a noise,” as it were of chariots and 
horsemen; and panic-struck, they fancied that the neighbor¬ 
ing powers were come up to the relief of the besieged city. 
And they arose, and leaving their camp stored with provisions 
of all sorts, they fled for their lives. Thus were liberty and 
plenty restored at once to the inhabitants of Samaria, agree- 


288 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


ably to tbe prediction of Elisha. And in conformity also 
with the prophet’s denunciation, the infidel favorite of the 
king saw, but did not taste, the food thus furnished to the 
famished city, for he was trodden to death in the gate by the 
crowd which rushed forth to seize the expected supply. 

HAZAEL. 

And now Hazael comes upon the stage, holds up in his 
hand the wet cloth with which he has choked his master, and 
seems to say, “ This is my flag, and terrible title to fame.” 
Elisha is on a visit to Syria. He is in the midst of the ene¬ 
mies of his country. But the fame of his prophetic power 
disarmed their hostility, and led to his meeting with the pre¬ 
destined ruler of whom he had heard years before from his 
master Elijah. He received an eager inquiry from the sick¬ 
bed of Ben-hadad; it was presented by Hazael, at the head 
of a train of forty camels laden with the choicest gifts—“ a 
present of every good thing”—of Damascus. Nothing seemed 
too costly to win a favorable reply. What that reply was it 
is hard to say. Did the prophet, according to one reading, 
deliver one unbroken message of death ? Or did he, as seems 
more probable, with changes of tone and voice, which we 
cannot recover, deliver the double oracle, “ Go, and say to 
him, Thou shalt live, thou shalt live ; but the Lord hath 
showed me that he shall die, that he shall die” ? There is 
something in the tortuous reply not inconsistent with the 
ambiguous answers of Elisha on other occasions. It is one 
of his contrasts with the blunt abruptness of Elijah. It may 
be that he spoke of the double issue at stake in the sick- 
chamber of the king, and in the courtier’s mind. But other 
thoughts than those of Ben-hadad’s death or life pressed in 
upon his soul. He gazed earnestly on Hazael’s face; saw his 
future elevation, and saw with it calamities which that ele¬ 
vation would bring on his country. It is very rarely that 
the prophets are overcome by their human emotions. They 


ELISHA. 


289 


speak (and so Elisba did on this very occasion) as men speak 
who are constrained by some overruling power. But the 
evils which he now presaged were so awful, that the tears 
rushed into his eyes. Hazael himself stood astounded at the 
prophet’s message. He, insignificant as he seemed, a mere 
dog, to be raised to such lofty power, and to do such famous 
deeds! Beturning to his master, he told him that the pro¬ 
phet said he should surely recover. But on the morrow he 
took a thick cloth, and dipped it in water, and spread it on 
his face, so that he died; and Hazael was at once raised to 
the throne of Syria. Under him Damascus became again a 
formidable power. He was worshiped almost with Divine 
honors by his countrymen even at the time of the Christian 
era. By him the trans-Jordanic territory was laid waste, its 
strongholds burnt, and its population massacred. AU that 
the prophet foretold of him was strictly fulfilled. 

In his relation with Hazael, as with Naaman, Elisha ap¬ 
pears as the prophet of the Syrians as well as of the Israelites. 
It is this feature of his character that is caught in the only 
notice of him contained in the Hew Testament: “ There were 
many lepers in Israel in the time of Elisha the prophet, but 
none were healed save Naaman the Syrian.” From his time 
the prophets of Israel appear as the oracles, as the monitors, 
not only of Israel, but of the surrounding nations. The larger 
comprehensiveness, for which the way had been prepared in 
the reign of Solomon, was now beginning to show itself in 
this the' most national of all their institutions. 

JEHU. 

With Elisha and Hazael, in the vision of Elijah at Horeb, 
had been named Jehu, the son or grandson of Nimshi. 
He was with Ahab when he went to take possession of the 
vineyard of Naboth. He was now high in the favor of 
Ahab’s son, as captain of the host in the Syrian war. In that 
war of chariots and horses, he had acquired an art little 
19 


290 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 



practiced by the infantry of the ancient Israelites. He was 
known through the whole army and country for his furious 
driving. He was evidently a man of impetuous, torrid tem¬ 
perament, and yet not deficient in shrewdness and sagacity. 

The army which he commanded was at Ramoth-Gilead. 
Here, as before at Gibbethon, and as so frequently in history, 
the camp became a second power in the State. In all ages, 
armies have made and unmade dynasties. The king himself 
had been present at the siege, and had returned home 
to Jezreel to be cured of his wounds from the arrows of the 
Syrian archers. In his absence, a young man of the prophets 
was sent by Elisha to anoint Jehu. He arrived at the camp, 
bearing a small flask of the sacred oil—his garments girt 
round him, as of one traveling in haste, and his appearance 
wild and excited. Jehu was sitting, as was his wont, sur¬ 
rounded by his officers, by whom he was greatly beloved, and 

with whom he lived 
on easy terms. The 
prophet singled him 
out from the midst 
of his captains. The 
soldier and the youth 
withdrew into the 
house, in front of 
which the group were 
sitting. Through 
the house they went 
from chamber to 
chameleon. chamber, till they 

reached the innermost recess. The officers remained without 
in anxious expectation. Presently the door of the house 
opened, and the youth rushed out and disappeared as suddenly 
as he had appeared. Then Jehu came forth. His companions 
asked him in their curt, soldierly way, with a dash of sar¬ 
casm, “ Wherefore came this mad fellow to thee ?” They were 


ELISIIA. 


291 


little accustomed to be moved with any sentiment of respect 
for the Lord’s prophets. And yet they were more readily 
influenced by what the young man had done than their mode 
of characterizing him might have led one to expect. Jehu 
put off their inquiry for a moment. “Ye know the m^n and 
his communication;” as much as to say, “ you know as well 
as I do, that this mysterious visitor was no other than a 
prophet, coming and going after the manner of Elijah.” 
Again, with an abruptness which gives an air of military life 
to the whole transaction, they replied, “ It is a lie ; tell us 
now.” Then he broke his reserve, and revealed the secret 
interview. It had indeed been a messenger of Elisha, to ful¬ 
fill the long pending mission of Elijah. Once more there was 
a consecrated king of Israel. The oil of inauguration had 
been poured on the head of Jehu. He was to go forth “ the 
anointed of the Lord,” to exterminate the house of Ahab. It 
was as if a spark had been set to a train long prepared. 
There was not a moment’s hesitation. The officers tore off their 
military cloaks, and spread them under his feet, where he 
stood on the top of the stairs leading down into the court. 
As he stood on this extemporized throne, with no seat but 
the steps covered by the carpeting of the square pieces of 
cloth, they blew the well-known blast of the ram’s horn 
which always accompanied the inauguration of a king of Israel. 

From this moment the course of Jehu is fixed. The des¬ 
tiny long brooding over him—the design perhaps raised in 
his mind from the day when he first met Elijah—is to be ac¬ 
complished. “ If it be your mind,” said he, “ then let none go 
forth nor escape out of the city to tell it in Jezreel.” Spoken 
like a wise captain! He will carry the news himself. He 
mounted his chariot; he armed himself with his bow and 
quiver. Jezreel was a v considerable distance away, and the 
Jordan to be crossed. But the driving of Jehu was a proverb 
amongst his countrymen, and it continues to be proverbial 
with us even now, and bids fair to do so till the end of time. 


292 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


Therefore the distance melted away under the swift and fer¬ 
vid chariot-wheels. Followed by a large part of the army, he 
advances upon Jezreel. Twice over we are told, not without 
a certain pathos, that the king of Israel lay sick in Jezreel of 
the wounds that he had received in the battles of his country, 
and that his nephew, the king of Judah, had come to visit him 
in his sick-chamber. They were startled by the announce¬ 
ment of the sentinel—who stood always on the high watch- 
tower of Jezreel looking toward the East—that the dust of a 
vast multitude was seen advancing from the Jordan valley. 
Often has this passage of sacred writ, and other kindred por¬ 
tions—such as that which records the suspense of old Eli when 
his sons were out with the army, engaged in the battle in which 
they were slain, and the ark of God was taken; and that other. 
portion which leads to the deeply pathetic lamentation of David 
for Absalom—been imitated by the writers of uninspired 
works, but never equalled. The first apprehension of the 
kings must have been of a Syrian invasion, or of a Syrian 
alliance. Two horsemen were successively sent out to bring 
information, but were detained by Jehu, so as to secure the 
suddenness of his arrival; till at last, as the cavalcade drew 
nearer, the sentinel on the watch-tower recognized, by the 
furious speed of the foremost horses, that the charioteer could 
•be no other than Jehu, the mad driver. Jehoram, still appar¬ 
ently filled with the thought of the Syrian war, roused him¬ 
self from his sick-bed, and accompanied by his nephew, went 
out to meet the captain of his host. Jehu had halted, in his 
onward march, at a well-known spot, close under the walls of 
Jezreel. 


NABOTH AVENGED. 

He was determined to receive them in the fatal plat of 
Naboth’s ground. In answer to Jehoram’s question, “ Is it 
peace, Jehu?” he revealed his purpose. It was the great 
queen-mother, the mighty Jezebel, that was the main object of 


ELISHA. 


293 


his attack. The king wheeled his chariot round and fled. 
Jehu drew his bow “ with all his strength,” with all the 
strength which a man throws into the stroke upon which hang 
his fortunes. 'Jehoram sank down dead in his chariot. 

Jehu had been commissioned to execute the Lord’s judg¬ 
ment upon the house of Ahab, and his relentless nature con¬ 
curred with his own interest in giving the widest possible 
interpretation to his commission, while he was careful, in 
every fresh deed of blood, to declare himself the Lord’s avenger, 
who did but execute the orders given to him. No doubt he 
was the appointed minister of delayed judgment, but we can¬ 
not fail to see that he used that commission for the purpose 
of sweeping away from his path all those from whose ven¬ 
geance or hate any disturbance might, even by remote possi¬ 
bility, be apprehended to his future reign. He chose to 
recollect that the king of Judah was Ahab’s grandson, and to 
suppose that he was included in his commission. This mon¬ 
arch had fled, and in the pause which Jelioram’s death occa¬ 
sioned, was already some distance away; but Jehu sent his 
servants in pursuit of him. He fled swiftly, but so closely 
followed as to receive a mortal wound. 

MeanwhilS Jehu looked upon his bloody work with grim 
complacency, and directed the body of his slain master to be 
taken from the chariot, and thrown into the plat of ground. 
“ Remember,” he said to Bidkar, his chief captain, “ how that 
when I and thou rode together after Ahab, his father, the 
Lord laid this burden upon him. ‘ Surely I have seen yester¬ 
day the blood of Naboth and the blood of his sons; and I 
will requite thee in this plat,’ saith the Lord. Now, there¬ 
fore take and cast him into the plat of ground, according to 
the word of the Lord.” This reads like the old Greek 
dramas—none of them, however, as old as this—of accom¬ 
plished fate. He who had witnessed the doom imposed, was 
also selected and commissioned to execute it. And not only 
on that plat, but wherever the house of 1 Ahab should be 


294 


TROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


found, and wherever the blood of Naboth had left its traces, 
the decree of vengeance was pronounced ; the blood of Ahab 
and Jehoram and Ahaziah was but the beginning of the expia¬ 
tion ; the horizon was darkened with the visions of vultures 
glutting on the carcasses of the dead, and the packs of savage 
dogs feeding on their remains, or lapping up their blood. 

JEZEBEL. 

Jehu was now near the gates of Jezreel. The palace over¬ 
hung the walls, and looked down on the dreadful scene of 
guilt and of retribution. There was one spirit in the house 
of Ahab still unbroken. The aged queen-mother tired her 
head and painted her eyelids with lead-ore, to give them a 
darker border and a brighter and larger appearance, and 
looked through the high latticed windows of the watch-tower. 
She saw that her doom was sealed; but she determined to 
show that she feared not, mourned not, and to cast one bitter 
and burning word upon the head of the destroyer, such as 
should haunt and scorch him all his life. As for this pur¬ 
pose, it was necessary to show herself, if but for a moment, 
she applied herself to her toilet, and arrayed herself carefully, 
to let it be seen that she appeared as a queen, Itnd not as a 
suppliant and a mourner, as the neglect of her person would 
have implied. The supreme hour of her dynasty and of her 
life was come; and as Jehu’s chariot rolled up the ascent, 
she cast her thoughts back to the days when Omri, the 
founder of her dynasty, had trampled down the false usurper 
Zimri. It is difficult to know whether her words were 
spoken in stern rebuke, “ Had Zimri peace who slew his 
lord?” or in bitter irony, “Welcome to Zimri, the slayer 
of his lord.” The savage conqueror looked up and cried, 
“ Who is on my side, who ?” Two of the attendants looked 
out at his call, and dashed the queen down from the window. 
She fell between the palace and the advancing chariot. The 
blood flew up against the wall and over the horses as they 


ELISHA. 


295 


trampled her down under their hoofs. The conquering pro- 
cession drove through the gateways, and sat down to a 
triumphal feast. Not till the feast was over did a spark of 
feeling rise within the breast of Jehu at the fall of so much 
grandeur. He bade his servants go out and bury the woman, 
who with all her crimes was yet the daughter of a king. But 
it was too late. The body had been left on the “ mounds,” 



ABRAHAM’S OAK, NEAR HEBRON. 


as they are called in Eastern stories, where the offal is thrown 
outside the city gates. The wild dogs of Jezreel had done 
their work; only the harder parts of the frame remained, the 
skull, the hands and the feet. 

SLAUGHTER OF THE PRINCES. 

Every stage of Jehu’s progress was now marked with blood. 
To the elders of Samaria he wrote—for we now begin to hear 
of written communications more frequently than formerly— 



296 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


telling them to select one of the seventy princes who were 
under their charge, proclaim him king, and uphold his cause 
by force of arms. He well knew they would not accept his 
challenge, and the irony of the letter was characteristic of 
Jehu. They sent in reply a message that they were ready to 
do his bidding in all things—they did not wish to link their 
fortunes with the fallen house of Ahab. Then he orders 
them to send the heads of these princes to him at Jezreel. 
They are sent in baskets, and he has them dumped in two 
piles by the sides of the gate. Passing out in the morning, 
he gloats his eyes for a moment upon the gory spectacle, then, 
with his usual grim sarcasm, says to those around him, “Ye 
be righteous; behold I conspired against my master and slew 
him; but who slew all these ?” Marching to the capital, 
he meets and slaughters forty-two members of the royal 
family of Judah, on their way to visit the court of Israel. This 
gay cavalcade of princes ride into the jaws of death. They 
are slain in a well, reminding us of the tragedy of Cawnpore. 

THE EECHABITE. 

Immediately after this Jehu came across a figure who might 
have reminded him of Elijah himself. It was Jehonadab the 
son of Eechab—that is the son of the “Rider”—an Arab 
chief of the Kenite tribe, who was the founder or second 
founder of one of those Nazarite communities which had' 
grown up in the kingdom of Israel, and which in this instance 
combined a kind of monastic discipline with the manners of 
the Bedouin race from whom they were descended. It may 
be that the place of their meeting, “the Shearing-house,” or 
house of the shepherds, was a usual haunt of the pastoral 
chief. The king was in his chariot; the Arab was on foot. 
Jehu knew the stern tenacity of purpose that distinguished 
Jehonadab and his tribe. “And he saluted him, and said to 
him, ‘ Is thy heart right with my heart, as my heart is with 
thy heart ? ’ ‘It is.’ ‘ If it be, give me thine hand.’ And 


ELISHA. 


297 


he gave him his hand.” The king lifted him up into the 
chariot, and whispered into his ear the first intimation of the 
religious revolution which he had determined to make along 
with the political revolution already accomplished. Side by 
side with the king, the austere hermit sat in the royal chariot 
as he entered the capital of Israel, the warrior in his coat of 
mail, the ascetic in his hair-cloth. 

THE MASSACRE AT SAMARIA. 


A splendid festival was announced in the temple of Baal. 
With consummate wisdom, and yet with infernal duplicity and 



TOWN AND LAKE. 


treachery, the new king announced, “Ahab served Baal a lit¬ 
tle ; but Jehu shall serve him much.” It is another instance 
of how the unscrupulous go directly to their end—how ob¬ 
stacles melt before a man of determined will, who at the same 
time is utterly oblivious of moral distinctions, or who, worse 
still, counts himself a holy and a consecrated man, and throws 
the halo of religion and the shield of conscience over all his 
acts. The whole heathen population of Israel were summoned 
by Jehu; “there was not a man left that came not,” and the 


298 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


vast temple was packed from one end to the other. Then the 
sacred vestments were brought out, and thorough search was 
made to see that no “servant of the Lord” had intruded 
himself among the true worshipers. The sacrifices being 
made ready, the king and the anchorite went in together to 
offer the victims to the heathen gods. There was nothing in 
those unmoved countenances to betray the secret. They were 
able to the last moment to preserve the mask of conformity 
to the Phenician worship. They completed their sacrifice 
and left the temple. Pound about the building were eighty 
men of the king’s own immediate officers and body-guard. 

They were intrusted with the double charge, of preventing 
the escape of any one, and secondly of striking the deadly 
blow. They entered, and the temple was strewn with 
corpses, which as fast as they fell, the soldiers threw out with 
their own hands. At last, when the bloody work was over, 
they found their way to the inner sanctuary, which towered 
like a fortress above the rest. There Baal was seated aloft, 
with the gods of Phenicia around him. The wooden images 
small and great, were dragged from their thrones and burnt. 
The pillar or statue of Baal was shattered. The temple was 
razed to the ground; only a mass of ruins marked the place 
where in the morning a magnificent edifice reflected the rays 
of the sun from its summit; and in after days its site was 
known as the depository of all the filth of the town. 

CHARACTER OF JEHU. 

With him action followed thought as the bolt the flash. 
The firstlings of his heart were the very firstlings of his hand. 
Pity never weakened his will, and we see him wading through 
blood with nerves that seem to be made of iron. He is 
exactly one of those men whom we are compelled to recog¬ 
nize, not for what is good or great in themselves, but as in¬ 
struments for destroying evil and preparing the way for good. 
Of such characters history gives us many instances, and our 


ELISHA. 


299 


own times have furnished at least one notable example. A 
destiny long kept in view by himself or others, inscrutable 
secrecy and reserve in carrying out his plans, a union of cold, 
remorseless tenacity with occasional bursts of furious, way¬ 
ward, fanatical zeal: this is Jehu as he is set before us in the 
Biblical narrative, the worst type of a son of Jacob, the “sup- 
planter ,” 1 as he is called, without the noble and princely 
qualities of Israel, the most unlovely of all the heroes of his 
country. 

It is declared through the voice of Hosea, that for the blood 
even of Jehoram and Jezebel and Ahaziah an account must 
be rendered. “ I will avenge the blood of Jezreel upon the 
house of Jehu.” Their blood, like the blood which has been 
shed again and again, in the convulsions of nations and 
churches, was a righteous retribution on them; but from him 
who shed it a no less righteous retribution is at last exacted 
by the just judgment which punishes the wrong-doer, not only 
of one party in Church or State, but of both. 

THE ARROW OF DELIVERANCE. 

Elisha lived on through the reigns of Jehu and Jehoahaz, 
and for some time after Joash had ascended the throne. At 
last in his ninetieth year, he was struck with his mortal sick¬ 
ness. The young Joash came to visit the aged seer who had 
placed his grandfather on the throne, and wept over his face, 
and lamented that he who had been his father, and who had 
been to him a defense against the chariots and horsemen of 
Syria, was now to depart. The prophet roused himself from 
his sick-bed, and bade the king take the bow—the favorite 
weapon of the chiefs of Israel, and then through the window 
open toward the eastern quarter, whence the hostile armies of 
Syria came, the youthful king, with the aged hands of Elisha 
planted on his hands, shot once, twice, thrice, upon the ground 
outside. The energy of the youth was not equal to the energy 


12 Kings x. 19. 



300 PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 

of the expiring prophet. He ought to have gone on shooting 
tili he had exhausted the quiver. It would have been a sign 

and pledge of the entire de¬ 
struction of his enemies. 
But he fell short of the 
full measure of success 
that was possible for him, 
by his want of earnestness 
and zeal. 

And what are all the 
failures, the disasters, the 
losses, the wrecks of life, 
but this very thing—smit¬ 
ing thrice, when we should 
smite five or six times— 
stopping when we should 
owl op holy land, go on, becoming weary 

and faint and giving up, when we should press forward, losing 
all when we might gain all ? 

THE CHARACTER OF ELISHA’S MINISTRY. 

His life was not spent, like his predecessor’s, in unavailing 
struggles, but in wide-spread successes. He was sought out not 
as the enemy, but as the friend and counselor of kings. 
One king was crowned at his bidding, and wrought all his 
will. Another consulted him in war, another on the treat¬ 
ment of his prisoners, another in the extremity of illness, 
another to receive his parting counsels. “ My father,” was 
their reverent address to him. Even in far Damascus his 
face was known. Ben-liadad treated him with filial respect; 
Ilazael trembled before him ; ISTaaman hung on his words as 
upon an oracle. If for a moment he shows that the remem¬ 
brance of the murder of Naboth and the prophets by Ahab 
and Jezebel is burnt into his soul, yet he never actively in¬ 
terposes to protest against the idolatry or the tyranny of the 
court. Even in the revolution of Jehu he takes no direct 



ELISHA. 


301 


part. Against the continuance of the worship of Baal and Ash- 
taroth, or the revival of the Golden Calves, there is no recorded 
word of protest. There is no express teaching handed down. 
Even in his oracular answers there is something uncertain and 
hesitating. He used the minstrel’s harp to call forth his pe¬ 
culiar powers, as though he had not them completely within 
his own control. His deeds were not of wild terror, but of 
gracious, soothing, homely beneficence, bound up with the 
ordinary tenor of human life. When he smites with blindness 
it is that he may remove it again; when he predicts, it is the 
prediction of plenty and not of famine. At his house by 
Jericho the bitter spring is sweetened ; for the widow of one 
of the prophets the oil is increased ; even the workmen at 
the prophet’s huts are not to lose the axe-head which has 
fallen through the thickets of the Jordan into the eddying 
stream ; the young prophets, at their common meal, are saved 
from the deadly herbs which had been poured from the blanket 
of one of them into the 
caldron; and they enj oy 
the multiplied provision 
of corn. At his home 
in Carmel he is the oracle 
and support of the neigh¬ 
borhood; and the child 
of his benefactress is 
raised to life, with an in¬ 
tense energy of sympathy 
that gives to the whole 
scene a grace as of the 
tender domestic life of 
modern times. And 
when at last his end 
comes, in a great old age, he is not rapt away like Elijah, but 
buried with a splendid funeral; a sumptuous tomb was shown 
in after years over his grave, in the royal city of Samaria; 










302 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


and funeral dances were celebrated round his honored resting- 
place. Alone of all the graves of the saints of the Old Testa¬ 
ment, there were wonders wrought at it, which seemed to 
continue after death the grace of his long and gentle life. 
The supernatural power which had pervaded him so long did 
not seem to leave his body. A band of plundering Moabites 
having, murdered a man, were about burying him, when they 
saw a troop of soldiers approaching. In their hurry to escape 
they cast the body into Elisha’s sepulchre, but the moment it 
touched the coffin of the prophet, life re-entered it, and the 
robbers saw their victim stand up alive and gaze into their 
astonished faces. 

Such was Elisha, greater yet less, less yet greater than 
Elijah. He is less, for character is the real prophetic gift. 
The man, the will, the personal grandeur of the prophet are 
greater than any amount of prophetic acts, or any extent of 
prophetic success. We cannot dispense with the mighty past, 
even when we have shot far beyond it. Nations, churches, 
individuals, must all be content to feel as dwarfs in compari¬ 
son with the giants of old time, with the reformers, the mar¬ 
tyrs, the heroes of their early youthful reverence. Those who 
follow cannot be as those who went before. A prophet like 
Elijah, comes once, and does not return. Elisha, both to his 
countrymen and to us, is but the successor, the faint reflection 
of his predecessor. When he appeared before the three sup¬ 
pliant kings, his chief honor was that he was “ Elisha, the 
son of Shaphat, who poured water on the hands of Elijah.” 
And though after this he became greatly distinguished on his 
own account, still his character has not the towering majesty 
of his master. 

Less, yet greater. For the work of the great ones of this 
earth is carried on by far inferior instruments, but on a wider 
scale, and it may be in a far higher spirit. The life of an 
Elijah is never spent in vain. Even his death has not taken 
him from us. He struggles single-handed, he thinks, and 


ELISHA. 


303 


without effect; and in the very crisis of the nation’s history, 
he is suddenly and mysteriously removed. But his work 
continues; his mantle falls; his teaching spreads; his enemies 
perish. The prophet preaches and teaches, the martyr dies 
and passes away; but other men enter into his labors. By 
the impulse of Elijah, Elisha and Elisha’s successors, pro¬ 
phets and sons of prophets, are raised up by fifties and by 
hundreds. They must work in their own way. They must 
not try to retain the spirit of Elijah by repeating his words, 
or by clothing themselves in his rough mantle, or by living 
his strange life. What was begun in fire and storm, in soli¬ 
tude and awful visions, must be carried on through winning 
arts, and healing acts, and gentle words of peaceful and social 
intercourse; not in the desert of Horeb, or on the top of Car¬ 
mel, but in the crowded thoroughfares of Samaria, in the gar¬ 
dens of Damascus, by the rushing waters of Jordan. 

Elisha himself may be as nothing compared with Elijah; 
his wonders may be forgotten. He dies by. the long decay of 
years; no chariots of fire are there to lighten his last moments, 
or bear away his soul to heaven. Yet he knows that, though 
unseen, they are always .around him. Once in the city of 
Dothan, when he is compassed about with hostile armies, and 
his servant cries out for fear, Elisha said, “Fear not; for they 
that be with us are more than they that be with them. . . . 

And, behold, the mountain was full of horses and chari¬ 
ots round about Elisha.” It is a vision of which the 
meaning acquires double force from its connection with the 
actual history ; as if to show by the same figure, that the hope 
which bore Elijah to his triumphal end was equally present 
with Elisha. Elijah, and those who are like Elijah, are needed, 
in critical and momentous occasions, to “prepare the way for the 
Lord.” But Elisha, and those who are like Elisha, have a 
humbler, and yet a wider sphere; for their works are not 
the works of the Baptist, but are the deeds, if not of Christ 
Himself, at any rate of “ the least in His kingdom.” 


304 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


As we read the story of these seers of a past age, how we 
realize the truth of the poets line— 

“ Naught shall abide but mutability.” 

Yet the truths they uttered abide. The men were mortal, 
their messages were indestructible. Uttered still by other 
lips, and dying not with the death of time, they shall bear 
fruit forever ! It is for us to take them up, publish them to 
the world, and especially to see that they are formed within 
ourselves as principles of life and growth. Our review of 
Elisha’s career will not be profitless if it strengthens our res¬ 
olution so to live that when we are taken hence we may look 
back upon life without regret. All men have their mission. 
One man’s may be more solemn, more weighty, more import¬ 
ant, than another’s, but the great secret of godly living is, 
whatever our vocation, to do all things in the fear of the 
Lord. In this way we shall preserve a conscience void of 
offence, and shall be able to look death in the face without 
unmanly fears on the one hand or foolhardiness on the other. 
We have all read of the man who called a young friend to his 
bedside “ to see how calmly a Christian could die.” There 
was something very striking in that last act of a great and 
good man. But there are humble Christians in every com¬ 
munity who leave the world with so much calmness, so much 
evident happiness, that to witness their departure is good for 
the soul’s health. Such instances show that the comforts of 
religion are most manifest just when all others are about to 
come to nothing. “Be ye therefore followers of them who 
through faith and patience inherit the promises.” 


































































































































* 












































































































ISAIAH. 








































































































































































































































VI. 

ISAIAH. 


The Great Man of His Age—Statesman as well as Prophet—Of Royal 
Blood—Lives at the Capital—Names of his Children—His Style—Con¬ 
trast with other Prophets—Simple yet Sublime and Exultant— A Seer— 
The Evangelical Eagle—Isaiah’s Call—Sublime Vision in the Temple— 
The Seraphim—The Prophet’s Mission—His Catholicity and Breadth 
of View—Messianic Prophecies—The Prophet of the Gospel—In Ad¬ 
vance of his Age—a Plain Preacher—Denounces the Vices of his Time 
—Invasion of Sennacherib—Insulting Letter of the Heathen King- 
Faith of Hezekiah—God Speaks Through Isaiah—Destruction of the 
Assyrian Host—Murder of Sennacherib by his Sons—The Prophet’s 
Hymn—This great Jewish Rescue a Type of all Great National Deliver¬ 
ances—Martin Luther and the Forty-sixth Psalm—Hebrew Melody of 
Lord Byron. 

Isaiah stands out at once as the representative of his own 
age, and yet as a universal teacher of mankind. Whilst the 
other prophets of his period are known only to the by-paths 
of theology, in the quaint texts of remote preachers, Isaiah 
is a household word everywhere. This is the first point in 
the history of the kingdom of Judah where we are able to 
measure the periods by the names rather of distinguished 
teachers than of kings or chief priests. In the earlier stages 
of the history of Judah, we find no prophet of magnitude equal 
to Jehoshaphat or Jehoiada or Uzziah. But no contemporary 
king or priest was of magnitude equal to Isaiah, and he was 
succeeeded by two prophets, Jeremiah and Ezekiel, inferior 
only to himself. 

For the first time since Elisha, we have a prophet, of whose 
life and aspect we can be said to have any details. He was 
statesman as well as prophet. He lived not in the remote 
villages of Judah, like Micah, or wandering over hill and dale 
like Elijah and Amos, but in the center of all political life 

( 307 ) 



308 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


and activity. His whole thoughts take the color of Jerusa¬ 
lem. He is the first prophet specially attached to the capital 
and the court. He was, according to Jewish tradition, of 
royal blood, the cousin of Uzziah, his father Amoz being held 
to be a younger son of Joash. He wrote Uzziah’s life; and 
his first prophecies, beginning in the close of that reign, illus¬ 
trate the reign of Jotham, as well as of the three succeeding 
sovereigns. He was the trusted friend and counselor of the 
good King Hezekiah. 

His individual and domestic life was a kind of impersona¬ 
tion of the prophetic office. His wife was a prophetess. Ac¬ 
cording to a practice which seems to have prevailed through¬ 
out his career, he and his children all bear prophetic names : 
“Behold I and the children whom the Lord hath given me 
are for a sign and a wonder in Israel from the Lord of Hosts.” 
His own name signifies “ the salvation of Jehovah.” One son 

he called “ Remnant-shall- 
return,” another “ Hasten- 
booty speed-spoil,” adding 
that before the child should 
be able to talk, the wealth of 
Damascus and the booty of 
Samaria should be carried 
away before the king of 
Assyria. 

He had a circle of dis¬ 
ciples in whom his spirit 
was long continued. Le¬ 
gends and apocryphal books 
have gathered around him 
as round another Solomon 
or another Elijah. Of no 
other book of the Old Tes¬ 
tament, except the Psalter, have the subsequent effects in the 
world been so marked, or the principles so fruitful of results 



ISAIAH. 


309 


for the future. In fact his appearance was a new step in the 
prophetic dispensation. The length of his life, the grandeur 
of his social position, gave a force to what he said, beyond 
what was possible in the fleeting addresses of the humbler 
prophets who had preceded him. There is a royal air in his 
attitude, in his movements, in the sweep of his vision, which 
commands attention. In the words of the son of Sirach, he 
was at once “great and faithful” in his “vision.” Nothing 
escapes him in the events of his time. The older prophetic 
writings are worked up by him into his own words. He is 
not ashamed of building on the foundation of those who have 
gone before him. All that there is of general instruction in 
Joel, Micah, or Amos, is reproduced in Isaiah. But his style 
has its own marked peculiarity and novelty. The fierce, im¬ 
passioned addresses of Joel and Nahum, the abrupt strokes, 
the contorted turns of Hosea and Amos, give way to some¬ 
thing more of a continuous flow, where stanza succeeds to 
stanza, and canto to canto, with almost a natural sequence. 
Full of imagery, his poetry still has a simplicity which was at 
that time so rare as to provoke the satire of the more popular 
prophets. They, pushing to an excess the nervous rhetoric 
of their predecessors, considered him but an instructor of 
babes. Like Wordsworth among modern poets, he was ex¬ 
posed to the taunts of the superficial, who could not compre¬ 
hend his simple and sublime philosophy. “ Whom shall he 
teach knowledge, and whom shall he make to understand doc¬ 
trine? Them that are weaned from the milk, and drawn 
from the breasts! ” Those constant recurrences of the gen¬ 
eral truths of spiritual religion, majestic in their plainness, 
seemed to them mere commonplace repetitions; “precept 
upon precept, precept upon precept, line upon line, line upon 
line, here a little, there a little.” It is the universal complaint 
of the shallow, inflated rhetoricians of the professedly religious 
world against original genius and apostolic simplicity—the 
complaint of the babblers of Ephesus against St. John—the 


310 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


protest of all scholastic and pedantic systems against the free¬ 
ness and the breadth of a greater than John or Isaiah. Such 
Divine utterances have always appeared defective, and unim¬ 
passioned* and indefinite, in the ears of those who crave a 
wilder excitement, and more elaborate systems; but they 
have found, for that very reason, a sure response in the child¬ 
like, genuine, natural soul of every age. 

But while the most simple, Isaiah is yet the most eloquent, 
the most dramatic, the most poetic, in one word, the most 
complete, of the prophetic bards of Israel. He has not the 
bearded majesty of Moses, the gorgeous natural description of 
Job, Ezekiel’s rough and rapid vehemence, David’s high gusts 
of lyric enthusiasm, Daniel’s awful allegory, John’s piled and 
enthroned thunders ; his power is solemn, sustained, at once 
measured and powerful; his step moves gracefully, at the 
same time that it shakes the wilderness. His imagery is 
seldom snatched from the upper regions of the ethereal, from 
the terrible crystal or the stones of fire, from the winged 
cherubim or the eyed wheels, from the waves of the glassy 
sea, or the blanched locks of the Ancient of Days, but from 
lower though lofty objects, from the glory of Lebanon, the 
excellency of Sharon, the waving forests of Carmel, the wil¬ 
lows of Kedron, the flocks of Kedar, and the rams of Ne- 
baioth. His prophecy opens with sublime complaint; it 
swells into noble anger, it subdues into irony, it melts into 
pathos; but its general tone is that of victorious exultation. 
It is one long rapture. You see its author standing on an 
eminence, bending forward over the magnificent prospect it 
commands, and with clasped hands, and streaming eyes, and 
eloquent sobs, indicating his excess of joy. What is true of 
all the prophets, that they frequently seem to see rather than 
to foresee, is especially true of Isaiah. Not merely does his 
mind overleap ages, and take up centuries as a “ little thing,” 
but his eye overleaps them too, and seems literally to see the 
word Cyrus inscribed on his banner, the river Euphrates 


ISAIAH. 


311 


turned aside, the cross and Him who bare it. We have little 
doubt that many of his visions became objective, and actually 
painted themselves upon his eye. The expression he saw is 
applied peculiarly to Isaiah. 

“ The vision of Isaiah, which 
he saw.” “ The word that 
Isaiah the son of Amoz saw.” 

“ These things said Esaias, 
when he saw His glory, and Assyrian armlet. 

spake of Him.” The word “ vision” belongs especially to 
Isaiah, as he seems to behold vividly that of which he 
speaks. 

He was a prince amid a generation of princes, a Titan 
among a tribe of Titans; and of all the prophets who rose on 
aspiring pinions to meet the Sun of Righteousness, it was for 
him, the Evangelical Eagle, to mount the highest, and to 
catch on his wing the richest anticipation of His rising. It 
was for him to pierce most clearly the abyss of the future, 
and become an eye-witness of the great events enclosed in its 
womb. He is the Divine describer of a Divine panorama. 
His sermons are not compositions, but cries, from one who 
“ sees a sight you cannot see, and hears a voice you cannot 
hear.” He realizes the old name which gradually merged in 
that of prophet—•“ seer.” He is an eye running to and fro 
throughout the future; and as you contemplate him, you feel 
what a power was that sight of the olden prophets, which 
pierced the thickest vails, found the turf thin and the tomb¬ 
stone transparent, saw into the darkness of the past, the pres¬ 
ent, and the future—the hidden recesses of the human heart— 
the folds of destruction itself; that sight which in Ezekiel 
bare the blaze of the crystal and the eyes of the wheels, which 
in Daniel read at a glance the hieroglyphics of heaven, and 
which in John blenched not before the great white throne. 
Many eyes are glorious; that of beauty, with its mirthful or 
melancholy meaning; that of the poet, rolling in its fine 




312 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


frenzy; that of the sage, worn with wonder, or luminc us 
with mild and settled intelligence; but who shall describe 
the eye of the prophet, across whose mirror swept the shad¬ 
ows of empires, stalked the ghosts of kings, stretched in their 
loveliness the landscapes of a regenerated earth, and lay. in its 
terror, red and still, the image of the judgment-seat of Al¬ 
mighty God ? Then sight, the highest faculty of matter or 
of mind, comes culminating to an intense and dazzling point, 
and the finite for the moment trembles upon the verge of Om¬ 
niscience itself. 

Exultation, we have said, is the pervading spirit of Isaiah’s 
prophecy. His are the “ prancings of a mighty one.” lias 
he to tread upon idols? he not only treads but tramples 
and leaps upon them. Witness the irony directed against 
the stock and stone gods of his country, in the forty-fourth 
chapter. Does he describe the downfall of the Assyrian 
monarch ? it is to the accompaniment of wild and hollow 
laughter from the depths of Hades, which is “ moved from 
beneath ” to meet and welcome his coming. Great is his 
glorying over the ruin of Babylon. With a trumpet 
voice he inveighs against the false fastings and other super¬ 
stitions of his age. As the panorama of the millennial day 
breaks in again and again upon his eye, he hails it with an 
unvaried note of triumphant anticipation. Rarely does he 
mitigate his voice, or check his exuberant joy, save in de¬ 
scribing the sufferings of Christ. Here he shades his eyes, 
holds in his breath, and furls his wing of fire. But so soon 
as he has passed the hill of sorrow, his old rapturous emo¬ 
tions come upon him with two-fold force, and no paean in his 
prophecy is more joyous than the fifty-fourth chapter. It 
rings like a marriage-bell. 

The uniform grandeur, the pomp of diction, the profusion 
of imagery, distinguishing this prophet, would have lessened 
his power over the common Christian mind, had it not been 
for the evangelical sentiment in which his strains abound, and 


ISATAII. 


313 


which has gained for him the name of “ the Fifth Evangelist.” 
Many bear with Milton solely for his religion. It is the same 
with Isaiah. The Cross stands in the painted window of his 
style. His stateliest figure bows before Messiah’s throne. 
An eagle of the sun, his nest is in Calvary. Anticipating 
the homage of the Eastern sages, he spreads out before the 
infant God treasures of gold, frankincense and myrrh. The 
gifts are rare and costly, but not too precious to be offered to 
such a Being; they are brought from afar, but He has come 
farther “ to seek and to save that which was lost. 

The general objects of Isaiah’s mission are best indicated 
in the account which he has left us of his call to the prophe¬ 
tical office. “In the year that King Uzziah died,” the fifty- 
second year of that long reign, 
as the life of the aged king, now 
on the verge of seventy, was 
drawing to its close in the re¬ 
tirement of the house of lepers, 
the young Isaiah was, or in vis¬ 
ion seemed to be, in the court 
of the Temple. He stood at 
the gate of the porch, and 
gazed straight into the Holy 
Place, and into the Holy of 
Holies itself. All the interven¬ 
ing obstacles were removed. 

The great gates of cedar-wood 
were thrown open, the many- 
colored veil that hung before 
the innermost sanctuary was drawn aside, and deep within 
was a throne as of a king, high and lifted up, towering as if 
into the sky. What was the form that sat thereon, here, as 
elsewhere, the Scripture forbears to describe. Only by 
outward and inferior images, as to us by secondary causes, 
could the Divine Essence be expressed. The long drapery 




314 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


of his train filled the temple, as “ His glory fills the earth.” 
Around the throne, as the cherubs on each side of the mercy- 
seat, as the guards round the king, with head and feet veiled, 
floated the figures of the seraphim, themselves glowing with 
the glory of which they were a part, whilst vast wings en¬ 
folded their faces and their feet, and supported them in mid¬ 
air round the throne. From side to side went up a hymn of 
praise, which has since been incorporated in the worship of 
Christendom, and which expressed that He was there who 
bore the great Name by which God was specially known in 
the period of the Jewish monarchy and in the Prophetical 
order—“ the Lord of Hosts.” The sound rang like thunder 
to the extremity of the Temple. The pillars of the gateway 
trembled, as if in an earthquake-shock, and the whole build¬ 
ing within grew dark as with the smoke of a vast sacrifice. 
It was a sight and sound which the youthful Isaiah re¬ 
cognized at once as the intimation of Divinity. It was the 
revelation of the Divine Presence to him, as that of the 
burning bush to Moses, or of the still small voice to 
Elijah—the inevitable prelude to a prophetic mission, couched 
in the form most congenial to his own character and sit¬ 
uation. To him, the Royal Prophet of Jerusalem, this 
manifestation of royal splendor was * the almost necessary 
vesture in which the Spiritual Truth was to be clothed. His 
own sin and the sins of his nation passed before him, and he 
said, “ Woe is me, for I am lost, because I am a man of un¬ 
clean lips, and I dwell among a people of unclean lips; for 
mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts.” A Rab¬ 
binical tradition took possession early of the Christian Church, 
that his sin had been an acquiescence in the sin of Uzziah, 
and that the gift of prophecy had been then removed from 
him, and was now to be restored. But doubtless it was not 
any special sin, but his sinfulness and the sinfulness of his 
people that he deplored; and then upon his polluted lips the 
purifying touch was laid. From the flaming altar the flaming 


ISAIAH. 


315 


seraph, brought a flaming coal. This was the creation, so to 
speak, of that marvelous style which has entranced the world ; 
the burning furnace which warms, as with a central fire, every 
variety of his addresses. Then came the voice from the 
sanctuary, saying, “ Whom shall I send, who will go for us ?” 
With unhesitating devotion, the youth replied, “Here am I; 
send me.” The very words of his acceptance express the 
ready obedience of an apostle, not obedience only, but a will- 
ing offer of service. And the seraphim touching his lips, admit¬ 
ting him as it were 
into their company 
about the throne, 
burning with se¬ 
raphic knowledge; 
and the live coal 
from the altar; how 
it all expresses the 
character of his pro¬ 
phecies ; conveying 
by his words a holy 
flame into the cold 
hearts of men, to 
inspire them with 
love and Divine 
knowledge, purify¬ 
ing their hearts as by fire, and this too from the altar of 
God, the altar of the Divine sacrifice of Jesus. 

The Spirit of God marks His manifestations, by sensible 
signs; by the dove at our Lord’s baptism ; by the fiery and 
cloven tongues at Pentecost; He speaks, in the call of Isaiah, 
through the altar-coal of the seraphim. And as music par¬ 
takes of the character of the instrument on which it is played, 
so the temper of the prophet was no doubt suited to the 
heavenly hand and the finger of God. The very mode in 
which their mission was conveyed, characterized the prophets. 























316 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


Ezekiel was given to eat of the roll; the mouth of Jeremiah 
was touched by the hand of the Lord, giving him power of 
speech; but Isaiah was thus set apart by a yet more solemn 
and sublime consecration, by the vision of Christ in His Church. 
By Moses in the burning bush Christ was seen as the Ever¬ 
lasting God; by the children of Israel as the Judge, in the 
terrors of Mount Sinai; by St. Stephen standing on the right 
hand of God, to aid; by St. Paul in brightness beyond the 
sun, to convince; by St. John in the Apocalypse, as the 
High Priest that liveth forever; but by Isaiah as sitting on 
the throne of His kingdom, and the whole earth full of His 
glory; and then receiving from the hands of the seraphim 
his commission with a loving faith, not as a prophet only, but 
one might say as an evangelist and apostle. 

In the words that follow is represented the whole of the 
prophet’s career. First, he is forewarned of the forlorn hope¬ 
lessness of his mission. The louder and more earnest his cry^ 
the less will they hear and understand—the more clearly he 
sets the vision of truth before them, the less will they see. 

Make the heart of this people gross, and make their ears 
heavy, and shut their eyes, lest they see with their eyes, and 
hear with their ears, and understand with their hearts, and be 
converted and healed.” These mournful words, five times 
repeated in the New Testament as the description of the Jew¬ 
ish people in its latest stage of decay, were doubtless true in 
the highest degree of that wayward generation to which 
Isaiah was called to speak. His spirit sank within him as he 
asked, “ O Lord, how long ?” The reply unfolded at once the 
darker and brighter side of the future. Not till suc¬ 
cessive invasions had wasted the cities, not till the houses 
had been left without a human being within them, not till 
the land had been made desolate with desolation, would a bet¬ 
ter hope dawn; not till the invasions of Pekah and Sennach¬ 
erib had done their work, not till ten out of the twelve tribes 
had been removed far away, and there should have been a 


ISAIAH. 


317 


great forsaking in the midst of the land, would he be relieved 
from the necessity of delivering his stern, but fruitless warn¬ 
ings, against the idolatry, the dullness, the injustice of his 
people. But widely spread and deeply seated as was the 
national corruption, there was still a sound portion left, which 
would live on and flourish. As the aged oak or terebinth 
of Palestine may be shattered, and cut down to the very roots, 
and yet out of the withered stumps a new shoot may spring 
forth, and grow into a mighty and vigorous tree, so is the 
holy seed, the faithful few, of the chosen people. This is the 
true consolation of all ecclesiastical history. It is a thought 
which is but little recognized in the earlier and ruder stages 
of the race and the Church,when the inward and outward are 
easily confounded together. But it is the very message of 
life to a more refined and complex age, and it was the key¬ 
note to the whole of Isaiah’s prophecies. It had, indeed, bee 4 n 
Divinely indicated to Elijah, in the announcement of the few 
who had not bowed the knee to Baal, and in the still small 
whisper which was greater than thunder, earthquake and fi re. 
But in Isaiah’s time it first, if we may say so, became a living 
doctrine of the Jewish Church, and through him an inheri¬ 
tance of the Christian Church. “ A remnant.” This was his 
watchword. “ The remnant shall return.” This was the truth 
constantly personified before him in the name of his eldest son. 
A remnant of good in the mass of corruption, a remnant 
saved from the destructive invasions of Assyria, a burst of 
spring-time in the reformation of Hezekiah ; and far away in 
the distant future, a rod out of the stem, the worn-out stem 
of Jesse—a branch, a faithful branch, out of the withered root 
of David ; “ and the wilderness and the solitary place shall 
be glad, and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose, 
it shall blossom abundantly, even with joy and singing, and 
sorrow and sighing shall flee away.” 

Such was the hope and trust which sustained the prophet 
through his sixty years of toil and conflict. In the weakness 


318 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


of Ahaz, in the calamities of Hezekiah, under the tyranny of 
Manasseh, Isaiah remained firm and steadfast to the end. 
Wider and wider his views opened, as the nearer prospects of 
his country grew darker and darker. First of the proph¬ 
ets in this gospel illumination, he and those who followed 

him seized with unre¬ 
served confidence the 
mighty thought, that 
not in the chosen peo¬ 
ple, so much as in the 
nations outside of it, 
was to be found the 
ultimate well-being of 
man, the surest favor 
of God. Truly might 
the Apostle say that 
Isaiah was “ very 
bold,”—“ bold” beyond 
all that had gone be¬ 
fore him—in enlarging 
the boundaries of the Church; bold with that boldness, and large 
with that largeness of view, which so far from weakening the 
hold on things Divine, strengthens it to a degree unknown in 
less comprehensive minds. For to him‘also, with a distinctness 
which makes all other anticipations look pale in comparison, a 
distinctness which grew with his advancing years, was revealed 
the coming of a Son of David, who should restore the royal 
house of Judah and gather the nations under its scepter. If 
some of these predictions belong to that phase of the Israel¬ 
ite hope of an earthly empire, which was doomed to disap¬ 
pointment and reversal, yet the larger part point to a glory 
which has been more than realized. Lineament after linea¬ 
ment of that Divine Ruler was gradually drawn by Isaiah, 
until at last a Figure stands forth, so marvelously combined 
of power and gentleness and suffering, as to present in the 



SWORDS OF ASSYRIA. 











ISAIAH. 


319 


united proportions of his descriptions the moral features of 
an historical Person, such as has been by universal confession 
known once, and once only, in the subsequent annals of the 
world. 

All the history of our Lord’s coming in the flesh is here to 
be found ; the forerunner preparing the way before Him; 
His birth of a virgin as our Immanuel; His flight into Egypt ; 
His gentle mode of teaching, with no strife nor crying, nor 
voice heard in the streets; His miracles of healing, giving 
sight to the blind, and hearing to the deaf; all the particulars 
of His suffering, as by an eye-witness, the man of sorrows, 
set at naught, wounded, smitten, stricken, yet silent as a lamb 
brought to the slaughter; His death and burial; His resur¬ 
rection, and His sending of the Comforter; the call of the 
Gentiles; and His coming again to judgment; and in conclusion 
of all, the final state of the good and of the wicked, the worm 
that dieth not, and the fire that is not quenched. All these 
he describes expressly. But more than all is his prophecy 
pervaded and illuminated with the Gospel; the vision, the 
rapt vision of the things of God is so peculiarly his. He is 
full of warnings and of judgments; and in his near admission 
to the throne of God, clouds and darkness are round about 
him ; but every cloud is full of light, every judgment is lined 
or penetrated with the Gospel, its comforts and its glory. 

The task laid upon the prophet was difficult, the times were 
dark. But his reward has been, that in spite of the opposi¬ 
tion, the contempt, and the ridicule of his contemporaries, he 
has in after ages been regarded as the messenger, not of sad, 
but of good tidings, the Evangelical Prophet, the Prophet of 
the Gospel, in accordance with the meaning of his own name, 
which he himself regarded as charged with prophetic sig¬ 
nificance, “ the Salvation of Jehovah,” or a Divine Salvation.” 

No other prophet is so frequently cited in the New Testa¬ 
ment, for none other so nearly comes up to the Spirit of Christ 
and the Apostles. When the Gospel was first preached, the 


320 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


testimony of Isaiah was referred to as if he had been already 
the teacher of it all. As soon as John the Baptist begins to 
preach, he refers to the Prophet Isaiah as calling him the 
“ voice crying in the wilderness.” When the Bible was given 
to our Lord Himself to read, in His first preaching in the 
synagogue at Nazareth, it was the Prophet Isaiah from which 
He read, when He said, “ This day is this Scripture fulfilled 
in your ears.” And when He went from thence to Capernaum, 
the Evangelist quotes the Prophet Isaiah, describing his going 
as the light springing up in the dark land. When the Bap¬ 
tist sent two of his disciples to inquire if He were the Christ, 
our Lord called their attention to those particular works 
which Isaiah had described in the Messiah. And He Him¬ 
self, when there rejected, said, “ Well did Esaias prophesy of 
you.” When the Spirit sent Philip to convert the Ethiopian 
Eunuch, it was in the Prophet Isaiah that he was reading of 
Christ. When St. Paul first taught at Rome, it was the testi¬ 
mony of Isaiah which he pointed out to his countrymen; it 
was to the same Prophet Isaiah he had so often appealed be¬ 
fore in his Epistle to the Romans. And thus it has continued 
to the present time in the Church. No other single teacher 
of the Old Dispensation, David only excepted, has so worked 
his way into the heart of Christendom. When Augustine 
asked Ambrose which of the sacred books was best to be 
studied after his conversion, the answer was “Isaiah.” 
Jerome speaks of wishing to expound him as rather an apos¬ 
tle and evangelist than a prophet; as being himself one of 
those of whom he says, “ How beautiful on the mountains are 
the feet of those that preach the Gospel of peace.” The 
greatest musical composition of modern times, embodying * 
more than any single confession of faith, the sentiments 
of the whole Christian Church, is based in far the larger part 
on the prophecies of Isaiah. The wild tribes of New Zealand 
seized his magnificent strains as if belonging to their own 
national songs, and chanted them from hill to hill, with all 


ISAIAH. 


321 


the delight of a newly-discovered treasure. And as in his age, 
so in our own, he must be pre-eminently regarded as the u bard 
rapt into future times.” None other of ancient days so fully 
shared with the modern philosopher, or reformer, or pastor, the 
sorrowful yet exalted privilege of standing, as we say, u in 
advance of his age,” “ before his time.” Through his pro¬ 
phetic gaze we may look forward across a dark and stormy 
present to the onward destiny of our race, to what must be 
the hope of each aspiring soul, “ when the eyes of them that 
see shall not be dim; when the ears of them that hear shall 



MOUNT HOR. 

hearken; when the vile person shall no more be called liberal, 
nor the churl said to be bountiful; when the liberal shall de¬ 
vise liberal things, and by liberal things shall he stand ; when 
Ephraim shall not envy Judah, and Judah shall not vex 
Ephraim; when thine eyes shall behold the King in his 
leauty, and see the land that is very far off. 

Tsaiah uses great plainness of speech in alluding to the vices 
and sins of his time. The moderation and equality of earlier 
days were now widely departed from, and he denounces those 
who “join house to house, and lay field to field, that they 
21 










322 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


may be placed alone in the midst of tbe eartb.” He gives an 
elaborate picture of tbe ornaments of tbe fine ladies of Jeru¬ 
salem. He foretells a day when “ tbe Lord would take away 
tbe bravery of tbe ankle-bands, and tbe caps of net-work, and 
tbe crescents; tbe pendants, and tbe bracelets, and tbe veils; 
tbe turbans, and tbe ankle-chains, and tbe girdles, and tbe 
smelling-bottles, and tbe amulets; tbe signet-rings, and the 
nose jewels; tbe holiday dresses and tbe mantles, and tbe 
robes and tbe purses; tbe mirrors, and tbe tunics, and tbe 
bead-dresses, and tbe large veils.” A plain, unaffected gait 
would have been far too simple for ladies carrying such a 
load of artificial ornament: tbe neck stretched out, tbe eyes 
rolling wantonly, and a mincing or tripping step, complete tbe 
picture drawn by tbe plain-spoken prophet, and show to what 
a depth of folly woman may sink through love of finery. 

Isaiah tells us that drunkenness prevailed in bis time to a 
frightful extent, and revels occurred nightly, in which drinking, 
dancing and music united to excite tbe passions, while bac¬ 
chanalian scenes of tbe most revolting character were tbe 
common amusement of tbe upper classes. Judges took bribes 
openly, and tbe rich ground the' faces of tbe poor, and with 
heartless indifference sent them forth to suffer and die; and 
tbe nobles were “ companions of thieves.” “ Tbe whole bead 
was sick, and tbe whole heart faint.” “Ah,'‘sinful nation !” 
be exclaims, “ a people laden with iniquity, a seed of evil¬ 
doers, children that are corrupters; from tbe sole of tbe foot 
even to tbe bead there is no soundness in it.” In tbe midst 
of such abounding wickedness, tbe prophet lifted bis warning 
voice. He made tbe dissolute capital tremble with bis bold 
accusations and terrible denunciations. 

Isaiah lived in troublous times. In bis life occurred tbe 
invasion of tbe great Syrian conqueror, Sennacherib. This 
heathen monarch sent a letter full of boastful threats in 
order to strike terror into tbe heart of Hezekiah and his sub¬ 
jects. Undn- this trial tbe simple trusting faith of tbe Jew 


ISAIAH. 


323 


ish king shone forth. He took the letter, and penetrating, as 
it would seem, into the Most Holy Place, laid it before the 
Divine Presence enthroned above the cherubs, and called 
upon Him whose name it insulted, to look down and see with 
His own eyes the outrage that was offered to Him. From 
that dark recess no direct answer was vouchsafed. The answer 
came through the mouth of Isaiah. From the first moment 
that Sennacherib’s army had 
appeared, he had held the same 
language of unbroken hope 
and confidence, clothed in every 
variety of imagery. At one 
time it was the rock of Zion 
amidst the raging flood. At 
another, it was the lion of Ju¬ 
dah, roaring fiercely for his 
prey, undismayed by the mul¬ 
titude of rustic shepherds gath¬ 
ered round to frighten him. 



HEAD-DRESS OF RIDING-HORSE. 


At another, it is the everlasting wings of the Divine protection, 
like those of a parent bird brooding over her young against the 
great Birdsnester of the world, whose hand is in every nest, 
gathering every egg that is left, till no pinion should be left 
to flutter, no beak left to chirp. Or again, it is the mighty 
cedar of Lebanon, with its canopy of feathering branches, 
which yet shall be hewn down with a crash that shall make 
the nations shake at the sound of his fall; ■ whilst the tender 
branch and green shoot shall spring up out of the dry and 
withered stump of the tree of Jesse, which shall take root 
downward and bear fruit upward. Or again, it is the contest 
between the Virgin Queen, the impregnable daughter of Zion, 
sitting on her mountain fastness, shaking her head in noble 
scorn, and the savage monster, the winged bull, which had 
come up against her—led captive with a ring in his nostrils, 
to turn him back by the way by which he came. 





324 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


The evening closed in on what seemed to be the devoted 
city. The morning dawned, and with the morning came the 
tidings that they were delivered. “ It came to pass that night, 
that the angel of Jehovah went forth, and smote in the 
camp of the Assyrians a hundred and four score and five 
thousand.” By whatever mode accomplished—whether plague 
or tempest, the deliverance was complete and final. The As¬ 
syrian king at once returned, and according to the Jewish tra¬ 
dition, wreaked his vengeance on the Israelite exiles whom 
he found in Mesopotamia. He was the last of the great As¬ 
syrian conquerors. No Assyrian host again crossed the Jor¬ 
dan. Within a few years the Assyrian power suddenly van¬ 
ished from the earth. Sennacherib himself was murdered 
by his sons while worshiping in the temple of Nineveh. 
Upon this event we have the prophet’s hymn of thanks¬ 
giving— 

“ Art thou also become weak as we ? Art thou become as one of us ? 
How art thou fallen from heaven, 0 Lucifer, sou of the morning! 

How art thou cut down to the earth, that didst weaken the nations ! 

Is this the man that made the earth to tremble, that did shake kingdoms ? 
That made the earth as a wilderness, and destroyed the cities thereof ? 

All the kings of the nations, all of them rest in glory, each one in his 

house; 

But thou art cast out from thy grave like an abominable branch." 

The earth again breathes freely. The sacred cedar-grove 
feels itself once more secure. The world of shades prepares 
to receive its new inmate. 

The effect of this wonderful interposition of God, in the 
destruction of the Assyrian host, was in proportion to the 
strain of expectation and apprehension that had preceded it. 
Isaiah had staked upon his prophetic word the existence of 
his country, his own and his people’s faith in Jehovah. So 
literally had that word been fulfilled that he himself was re¬ 
garded, in after times, as the instrument of the deliverance. 

A grand burst of national thanksgiving is incorporated in 


ISAIAH. 


325 


the book of Psalms. “God is our refuge,” “God is in the 
midst of her,” “ The Lord of hosts is with us,” “ The God of 
Jacob is our refuge.” The weapons of the great army, such as 
we see them in the Assyrian monuments, the mighty bow 
and its lightning arrows, the serried shields, were shattered 
.to pieces. The long array of dead horses, the chariots now 
useless left to be burnt, the spoils carried off from the dead 
all rise to view in the recollection of that night. The proud 



hands in vain. The arms have fallen from their grasp. The 
neigh of the charger, the rattle of the chariot, are alike hushed 
in the sleep of death. The wild uproar is over, the whole 
world is silent, and in that awful stillness the Israelites de¬ 
scend from the heights of Jerusalem, like their ancestors 
to the shores of the Bed Sea, to see the desolation that had 
been wrought on the earth. As then, they carried away the 





































326 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


spoils as trophies. The towers of Jerusalem were brilliant 
with the shields of the dead. The fame of the fall of Sen¬ 
nacherib’s host struck the surrounding nations with terror far 
and wide. Three centuries afterward, the Psalmist’s exulting 
cry, that an invisible power had “ broken the arrows of the 
bow, the shield, the sword and the battle,” was repeated in- 
other language, but with the same meaning, by Egyptian 
priests, who told to Grecian travelers how Sennacherib’s army 
had been attacked by mice, which destroyed the quivers, the 
arrows, the bows, the handles of the shields. And a statue 



THRONES OR SENNACHERIB AND DARIUS. 

of the Egyptian king was pointed out in the temple at Mem¬ 
phis, holding in his hand the mouse, with the inscription, 
“ Look at me, and be religious.” 

That general reflection of the pious Egyptian is common to 
him and the Jew—the idea of Divine deliverance by whatever 
agency. “ There be more with us than with him; with us is 
the Lord God, to help us and to fight our battles.” By the 
recollection of this event in their national history, the Macca¬ 
bees were sustained in their struggle against Antiochus. It is 
not without reason that in the churches of Moscow the exulta¬ 
tion over the fall of Sennacherib is still read on the anniversary 














ISAIAH. 


327 


of the retreat of the French from Russia ; or that Arnold, in 
his Lectures on Modern History, in the impressive passage in 
which he dwells on that great catastrophe, declares that for 
“ the memorable night of frost in which 20,000 horses perished, 
and the strength of the French army was utterly broken,” he 
“ knew of no language so well fitted to describe it as the words 
in which Isaiah described the advance and destruction of the 
host of Sennacherib.” The grandeur of the deliverance has 
passed into the likeness of all sudden national escapes. The open¬ 
ing watchword of the Judean psalm of triumph, “God is our ref¬ 
uge and strength,” has furnished the inscriptions over the 
greatest of Eastern churches, the Cathedral of St. Sophia at 
Constantinople, and the earliest cathedral of the Russian em¬ 
pire at KiefF. And this psalm—the forty-sixth—is the founda¬ 
tion of the most stirring national hymn of western Europe, 
composed by Luther for his own support, and sung since in 
all the critical periods of the German nation. Our own times 
have heard it re-echoed from the bloody fields and triumphal 
marches of the new German empire. 

One of the least religious of English poets, by the mere 
force of kindred genius, has so entirely, though unconsciously, 
absorbed into his “ Hebrew Melody” the minutest allusions 
of the contemporary prophets and psalmists, as to make it a fit 
conclusion for the whole event: 

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, 

And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold ; 

And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, 

When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. 

Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, 

That host with their banners at sunset were seen ; 

Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, 

That host on the morrow lay withered and strown. 

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, 

And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed; 

And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, 

And their hearts but once heaved, and forever grew still. 


328 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 

And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, 

But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride 
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, 
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. 

And there lay the rider distorted and pale, 

With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail; 
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, 

The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. 

And the widows of Asshur are loud in their wail, 

And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; 

And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, 
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord! 


















































4 






I 
























































» v - V ' 
















* 


















JEREMIAH 

























































































































































































































































































































































































































VII. 

JEREMIAH 


His Call—Elegy over Josiah—The Friends of Jeremiah—His Likeness to 
Paul—His Solitude—His Opposition to the Priests and Prophets—His 
Doctrines—His Firmness—His Sensibility—He Longs for the Desert— 
A Man of Peace, yet Forced to be a Man of Strife—His Pathos—Im¬ 
passioned Exhortation—Grandeur of the Prophet—His Spiritual Teach¬ 
ing—The Prophet of the Second Law—His Life Eventful—Decline of 
Judah—Jeremiah in the Temple—Rise of the Babylonian Empire— 
Battle of Carchemish—The Policy of Jeremiah—The Prophet’s Warn¬ 
ings—His Arrest and Imprisonment—Baruch Recites the Prophecies of 
Jeremiah—Fury of the King—Burning of the Parchment—The Prophe¬ 
cies Rewritten—Last Struggle of Jeremiah—Invasion—The Prophet 
Again in Prison—Drawn up from the Well—Buys the Field of Hana- 
meel—Refuses to Leave Palestine—Famous in Jewish Tradition—Pa¬ 
tron Saint of Judea—Typical Character. 

We are not to look on the prophets only as foretellers of 
things to come, nor merely as 11 preachers of righteousness,” 
but also as real living characters in whom Christ speaks by 
His Holy Spirit. As such, the life of Jeremiah presents 
much to call forth our sympathy and love, and much that we 
may seek to imitate in his sweet, Christ-like spirit. We find 
in him all the conspicuous features of the devout prophetic 
character—intense consciousness of his own weakness, great 
susceptibility to varying emotions, a spirit easily bowed 
down. Left to himself, he might have borne his part 
among the reforming priests of Josiah’s reign, free from their 
formalism and hypocrisy. 


HIS CALL. 

But “ the word of Jehovah came to him; ” and by that Di¬ 
vine voice the secret of his future life was revealed to him, 

( 331 ) 



332 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


at the very time when the work of reformation was going on 
with fresh vigor, when he himself was beginning to have the 



ASSYRIAN BOWMAN. 


thoughts and feelings of a 
man. A life-long martyrdom 
was set before him, a struggle 
against kings and priests and 
people. For a time it would 
seem that he held aloof from 
the work which was going on 
throughout the nation. His 
name is nowhere mentioned in 
the history of the memorable 
eighteenth year of Josiah. 


Though five years had passed since he had entered on the 
work of a prophet, it is from Huldah, not from him, that the 
king and his princes seek for counsel. The discovery of the 
Book of the Law however, could not fail to exercise an in¬ 
fluence on a mind like Jeremiah’s; his later writings show 
abundant traces of it; and the result apparently was, that he 
could not share the hopes which others cherished. He saw 
that the reformation was but a surface one. Israel had gone 
into captivity, and Judah was worse than Israel. It was as 
hard for him as it had been for Isaiah to find among the 
princes and people who worshiped in the Temple, one just, 
truth-seeking man. His own work as a priest and prophet 
led him to discern the falsehood and lust of rule which were at 
work under the form of zeal. The strange visions which had fol¬ 
lowed upon his call (ch. 1. v. 11-16) taught him that Jeho¬ 
vah would “ hasten ” the performance of His word. Hence, 
though we have hardly any mention of special incidents in 
the life of Jeremiah during the eighteen years between his 
call and Josiah’s death, the main features of his life come dis¬ 
tinctly enough before us. He had even then his experience 
of the bitterness of the lot to which God had called him. 
The duties of the priest were merged in those of the new 




JEREMIAH. 


333 


and special office. Toward the close of the reign, however, 
he appears to have taken some part in the great national 
questions then at issue. Josiah, probably following the ad¬ 
vice of Jeremiah, chose to attach himself to the new Chal¬ 
dean kingdom, and lost his life in the vain attempt to stop 
the progress of the Egyptian king. The encounter took 
place in the plain of Esdraelon, 
the scene of so many combats 
in the earlier history of Israel. 

No details are given of the bat¬ 
tle. Everything is absorbed in 
the one tragical event which helmets. 

closed it. Josiah was in his chariot, but disguised, according 
to the practice of the royal families of Israel in moments of 
extreme emergency. The Egyptian archers, such as we see 
on their monuments, discharged a volley of arrows against 
him. He fell; he was placed in his second chariot of reserve, 
and carried to Jerusalem to die, and was buried in his own 
sepulcher, according to the usage which had prevailed since 
the time of Hezekiah. So mournful a death had never oc¬ 
curred in the Jewish annals. All the population of .the city 
and the kingdom attended the funeral. 



ELEGY OVER JOSIAH. 

There was an elegy by Jeremiah over the departed king, 
probably as pathetic as that which David had sung over Saul and 
Jonathan. Long afterward was that sad day remembered, both as 
it was celebrated on the field of battle and at Jerusalem. The 
lamentation of Jeremiah was preserved in the memory of the 
male and female minstrels, as a national institution, even till 
long after the return from the captivity. Every family shut 
itself up and mourned apart. In every household the men 
and women mourned each apart in their own seclusion. In 
the prospect of the heaviest calamity that could befall the 
nation, this was the mourning which recurred to them, 




334 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


mourning as one mournetli for his only son,in bitterness as one 
that is in bitterness for his first-born. The widows were innu¬ 
merable ; the childless mother was left lamenting for her sons 
slain in battle, she laid herself down to die ; the sun of her 
life went down as it were in mid-day, as in the total eclipse 
of that fatal year. 

THE FRIENDS OF JEREMIAH. 

In the midst of the adverse influences which followed upon 
the death of Josiah-the Sacerdotal and Prophetic orders unit¬ 
ing with the princes in a league of guilt and crime-there was 
a powerful group, of which the prophet was the center, who 
adhered to the traditions of better times. Hilkiah, Shaphan, 
Maaseiah, and Huldah, indeed, were passed away; but their 
friends or children still remained; and the families especially 
of Shaphan and Maaseiah formed a powerful society, united 
by the closest sympathy. The life of the whole circle was the 
prophet Jeremiah, bound up by various ties of kinship or 
friendship with almost all of them. Even if his father, Hil¬ 
kiah, was not the high priest of that name, yet his own 
priestly descent must have brought them into close connection. 
His uncle, Shallum, was the husband of the prophetess Hul¬ 
dah, and his friend Hanameel was his cousin, their son. His 
constant companion was Baruch, the grandson of Maaseiah, 
and his most powerful protectors, Ahikam and Gedaliah, were 
the son and grandson of Shaphan. Born in the priestly city 
of Anathoth, with the influence of these families round him, 
it might well be said that he was consecrated to his office 
even from his earliest days. His father had received his 
birth with a joy of which the remembrance was long pre¬ 
served, and which strangely contrasted with the dark career 
of his after life ; a joy which yet was fully justified by the 
greatness and goodness of that life, if not by its happiness. 
The faithful adherence of his companions through good report 
and evil, his constant appeals to them for help, the unexpec- 


JEREMIAH. 


335 


ted aid widely through their intervention, was brought to his 
rescue, bring out the fascination which he exercised over them, 
and the tender sympathy which they received from him, so 
as, more than any other of the ancient prophets, to recall the 
great Apostle, who “ had a thousand friends, and loved each 
as if he had a thousand souls, and died a thousand deaths when 
he parted from them.” 


HIS SOLITUDE. 

But it might be said of Jeremiah, even more than of St. 
Paul, that in spite of these numerous friends, for the greater 
part of his mission he “ had no man like-minded with him.” 
From the first moment of his call he was alone, amidst a hos¬ 
tile world. The nation was against him. In the day when 
he uttered his lament over Josiah, he lost his last hope in the 
house of Judah. From that hour the charm of the royal line 
of David was broken; the institution which had of itself sus¬ 
tained the monarchy had lost its own vital power. The 
nobles were exasperated against him by his fearless rebukes 
of their oppression and luxury. Most of all he was hated and 
cursed—the bitterest trial, in every time—by the two sacred 
orders to which he himself belonged. He was one of those 
rare instances in the Jewish history, in which priest and 
prophet were combined, and by a singularly tragical fate he 
lived precisely at that age in which both of these great institu¬ 
tions seemed to have reached the utmost point of degradation 
and corruption; both, after the trials and vicissitudes of centur¬ 
ies, in the last extremity of the nation of which they were the 
chief supports, broke down and failed. Between the priest¬ 
hood and the prophets there had hitherto been more or less 
of a conflict; but now that conflict was exchanged for a fatal 
union—“ a wonderful and horrible thing was committed in the 
land; the prophets prophesied falsely and the priests bore 
rule by their means; and the people loved to have it so,” and 
he who by each of his callings was naturally led to sympathize 


336 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


with both, was the doomed antagonist of both—victim of one 
of the strongest of human passions, the hatred of priests against 

a priest who attacks 
his own order, the 
hatred of prophets 
against a prophet who 
ventures to have a 
voice and a will of 
his own. His own 
village of Anathoth, 
occupied by members 
of the sacred tribe, 
was for him a nest of 
conspirators against 
Assyrian shields. his life. Of him the 

raying was literally fulfilled, “a prophet hath no honor in his 
own birth-place.” 



HIS DOCTRINES. 

And, as often has happened in like case, the misfortune of 
his position was aggravated by the necessity of opposing the 
general current of popular prejudice, and professional narrow¬ 
ness, not merely in its grosser forms of selfishness and super¬ 
stition, but in those points where it merely carried to excess 
feelings which were in themselves good, and which had in an 
earlier age been sanctioned by the noblest examples and most 
fruitful results. In the altered circumstances of his age, he 
could no longer be what Isaiah had been : nay, that unshaken 
belief in the inherent invincible strength of Jerusalem which 
Isaiah had preached, and which the prophets still repeated 
after Isaiah with a constant and not unnatural confidence, it 
was the duty of Jeremiah to oppose. Even the yet diviner 
truth of the possibility of restoration for the most hardened 
character, which Isaiah had set forth in words whose fire 













JEREMIAH. 


33T 


lives to this day, was to Jeremiah overclouded by the sense 
of the ingrained depravity which seemed to have closed up 
every entrance to the national conscience. The message, 
“ Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; 
though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool,” was 
exchanged for the desponding cry, “ Can the Ethiopian change 
his skin, or the leopard his spots ? ” The free will of Isaiah 
and the fatality of Jeremiah were each true for the moment, 
each liable to exaggeration by those who will not make al¬ 
lowance for the effects of changed circumstances. There are 
times when ancient truths become modern falsehoods, when 
the signs of God’s dispensations are made so clear by the course 
of natural events as to supersede the revelations even of the 
most sacred past, or to demand for those revelations a new in¬ 
terpretation and an application suited to the present time. 
Jeremiah saw his country, not as he wished and hoped it to 
be, but as it really was: he was prepared not merely to ad¬ 
mit as an inscrutable fate, but to proclaim as his heaven-sent 
message, that Jerusalem was doomed. He was to acknowl¬ 
edge that the Temple, with all its hallowed associations, was 
of no avail; that the newly discovered law had come too late. 
In the reformation of Josiah, which fills so large a space in 
the historical narrative, he took no part, as though feeling it 
to be merely a superficial cure that had not probed the deeper 
moral evil within, which he never ceases to denounce and lay 
bare. He was to look the shortcomings of his country and 
his church full in the face, and not shrink from accepting 
their extremest consequences. When the northern kingdom 
fell, Hosea’s hope could still be sustained by the reflection that 
Judah was safe. When Amos and Isaiah attacked the priest¬ 
hood of Judah, they still felt that there remained the prophets 
on whom the nation could fall back. But when Jeremiah 
mourned for Israel, he felt that there was no reserve in Ju¬ 
dah. And when the priesthood closed in hostile array around 
him, he felt that, as far as Jerusalem was concerned, the 
22 


338 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


prophets were no supporters. He was himself the last of 
those gifted seers, who combined their prophetic teaching 
with the active public life of statesmen and counselors of the 
nation. 

HIS FIRMNESS. 

Against this fate, “ against the whole land, against the 
kings of Judah, against the princes, against the priests,” 
against the prophets, “against the people of the land,” he was 
“ to gird up his loins, and arise and speak ;” he was to be the 
solitary fortress, the column of iron, the wall of brass, fear¬ 
less, undismayed, unconfounded, the one grand, immovable 
figure, which alone redeems the miserable downfall of his coun¬ 
try from triviality and shame—for forty years, day by day, at 
early morning, standing to deliver his mournful warnings, his 
searching rebukes, in the royal chamber or in the Temple 
court. He was the prophet of unwelcome, unpalatable truth 
from whose clear vision all illusions had vanished away; in 
whom the high poetic aspirations of former times were trans¬ 
formed into the hard prose of common life ; yet a prose which 
itself becomes more poetical than poetry, because of its own 
exceeding tragical simplicity. 

HIS SENSIBILITY. 

But here another element enters into his history, which 
gives a yet deeper tone to its melancholy interest. For this 
desperate and solitary career we see no longer the wild roman¬ 
tic energy of an Elijah, nor the royal air and majesty of an 
Isaiah. Of all the prophets, Jeremiah is the most retiring, 
the most plaintive, the most closely compassed with ordinary 
human weaknesses. The cry which he uttered in the 
moment of his call, when the dark truth first broke upon his 
young mind, was characteristic of his whole career ; “ Ah! 
Lord God ! I cannot speak ; I am but a child !” It is this 
child-like tenderness which adds force to the severity of his 
denunciation, to the bitterness of his grief. His was not one 


JEREMIAH. 


339 


of those stern characters which bear without repining the 
necessary evils of life. He who was to be hard as brass and 
strong as iron, who had to look with unmoved countenance 
on the downward descent of his country, yet gave utterance to 
the wide wish of sorrow, “ Oh! that my head were waters 
and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and 
night for the slain of the daughter of my people.” He, whose 
task it was to run to and fro through the streets of Jerusalem, 



ASSYRIAN CROWNS. 


like the Grecian sage, to see if he could find a single honest 
man—to live, as it were, in the market-place as a butt of 
scorn alike from the religious and irreligious world—he was 
by nature and inclination the prophet of the desert, he longed 
for a “ lodge 1 in some vast wilderness,” that he might leave 
his people, and avoid the sight of their crimes, and be no 
longer exposed to their deceit and treachery and wickedness. 


1 Jeremiah ix: 2. 




340 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


Nothing can be more touching than to see one who hated 
publicity, and longed for quietness, and rest, and privacy and 
obscurity, yet forced to be conspicuous, forced to occupy a pub¬ 
lic station where he became a target for every arrow. His con¬ 
stant imagery is taken from those lonely regions where he would 
fain be, “ their bare hills, swept by the dry wind, where there 
was no human being, nor bird of the heavens to be seen”; 
where wolf, and lion, and panther prowled; where the un¬ 
tamable wild asses galloped up to the highest peaks, and snuffed 
up the sultry air; where the heath grows on the parched places, 
in a salt land, and* not inhabited. He stood apart from the 
almost invariable usage of the Jewish priesthood, by remaining 
in a life of celibacy, joining neither in the common assemblages 
of mourning nor of feasting. The austere habits of the Arabian 
Eechabites attracted his admiration, and drew down his emphat¬ 
ic benediction. “It was good for him to bear the yoke even from 
his youth. He sits alone and keeps silence, crouching under his 
burden.” Through the chambers of his innermost heart there is 
a shudder. His griefs pierce like a flight of arrows into his soul. 
He is overwhelmed with despair at the thought that he, the 
ger*Je, the unselfish, should be a man of war and a man of 
contention to the whole country; that he who had never 
joined the assembly of the mockers, but found his delight in 
God’s moral law, should be tormented by this perpetual pain, 
this incurable wound that refuses to be healed. 

“ The time is out of joint; 0 cursed spite, 

That ever I was born to set it right.” 

Such is the burden of his fainting heart. He doubts as to 
the truth of God. “ 0, Lord, Thou hast deceived me, and I was 
deceived.” “ 0, Lord Jehovah, Thou hast greatly deceived 
this people.” This is ever the tendency of ingenuous and 
sensitive souls, when wickedness seems to triumph, and the 
promises of God appear to go unfulfilled, especially when in 
the Church itself, combinations of evil men use the cloak of 
religion and the machinery of the Church to accomplish their 


JEREMIAH. 


341 


own selfish ends, and hypocrisy and deceit and treachery and 
malignity and the lust of power seem to bear uncontrolled 
sway. Jeremiah, with his shrinking nature, did not escape 
this temptation. And in his agony he heaps curses on the 
day of his birth, curses on the innocent messenger who 
brought the news of his birth: “ Wherefore came I forth out 
of the womb to see labor and sorrow, that my days should be 
consumed with shame.” He loses all confidence in himself. 
He feels that “ the way of man is not in himself; that it is 
not in man that walketh to direct his steps.” “0 Lord, cor¬ 
rect me—but with judgment—not in Thine anger, lest Thou 
bring me to nothing.” At times he is stung beyond endur¬ 
ance into imprecations, as fierce ^nd bitter, on his country and 
on his opponents, as ever came from the lips of Deborah or 
of David. At times he condescends to the meaner arts of 
secresy and falsehood. The shortcomings of the prophets 
amongst whom he lived were shared by himself. Opposing 
their spirit, differing from them by nature, gentle while they 
were cruel, noble while they were base, yet in the bitterness 
of his conflict with them, he sometimes sank to their level, 
and the purity of his character was sullied by the foul breath 
of their selfishness and hypocrisy. Of him, as of Elijah and 
of all the great men of God who pass before us in the pages 
of Divine revelation, it must be said, that “ he was of like 
passions with ourselves.” 

HIS PATHOS. 

It is this deep despondency and misery of Jeremiah that 
have caused his name to pass into a proverb for unavailing 
sorrow. The pathos of his style is most touching. His is 
that melting figure of Rachel, weeping for her children, and 
refusing to be comforted, because they are not. His is that 
appeal to Ephraim, “Is he my dear son? is he a pleasant 
child?” which sounds like the yearning of God’s own bowels 
His is the plaintive question, “ Is there no balm in Gilead, is 


342 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


there no physician there?” and the sorrowful ejaculation 
“ the harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not 
saved.” And it is he, the “ weeping prophet,” who asks, “is 
there any sorrow like unto my sorrow ?” 

His chief power, besides pathos, is impassioned exhortation. 
His prophecy is one long application. He is distinguished 
by powerful and searching practicalness. He is urgent, ve¬ 
hement, to agony. His “ heart is broken” within him. His 
“ bones shake,” he is “like a drunken man,” because of the Lord, 
and the word of His holiness. His fury often singles out the ly- 
ingprophets, and ignorant pretenders to the prophetic gift, who 
now abounded in the kingdom of Judah. Like an eagle pluck¬ 
ing from the jackdaw his owq. shed plumes, does Jeremiah lay 
about him in his righteous rage. Their dull dreams he tears 
in pieces, for “ what is the chaff to the wheat, saith the Lord.” 
For their feigned burdens he substitutes a weight of wrath 
and contempt. Mingled with this ardor of spirit, and earn¬ 
estness of appeal, there are touches of poetic grandeur. Wit¬ 
ness the picture, in the fourth chapter, of the tokens attesting 
the forthcoming of the Lord to vengeance. Chaos comes again 
over the earth. Darkness covers the heavens. The everlasting 
mountains tremble. Man disappears from below, and the 
birds fly from the darkened air. Cities become ruins, and the 
fruitful places wildernesses, before the advancing anger of the 
Lord. Compare Byron’s darkness with this picture. It is a 
massing of horrible circumstances, each adding something to 
the terror and sublimity of the whole. Jeremiah performs 
his task with two or three strokes; but they are strokes of 
lightning. 

Once the prophet mounts a lofty peak, whence the lands of 
God’s fury, the neighboring idolatrous countries, are com¬ 
manded, and pours out lava streams of invective upon their 
inhabitants. It is a true martial fire which inspires his de¬ 
scriptions of carnage and desolation. In his own language, he 
is a “ lion from the swellings of Jordan, coming up against 


JEREMIAH. 


343 


the habitation of the strong.” All tears are now wiped from 
his face. There is a fury in his eye which makes you wonder 
if aught else were ever there; it is mildness maddened into a 
holy and a fearful frenzy. In a noble rage, he strips off the 
bushy locks of Gaza, dashes down the proud vessel of 
Moab, consumes Ammon, makes Esau bare, breaks the bow of 
Elam, and brandishes again, and again, and again, a sword 
over Babylon, crying out at each new blow, 

“ A sword is upon the Chaldeans; 

A sword is upon the liars: 

A sword is upon her mighty men; 

A sword is upon their horses ; 

A sword is upon her treasures." 

We have difficulty in recognizing the weeper among the wil¬ 
lows ^n this homicidal energy, all of whose tears have been 
turned into devouring fire. 

But how, in the Lamentations, the prophet pours out his 
heart in deep melodies of desolation, mourning and woe! The 
scene is Jerusalem lying in heaps; the poet, the child of holy 
inspiration, appears upon the ruins, and with notes of desolation 
and woe, strikes his harp to the fallen fortunes of his country. 
It was not that the pleasant land now lay waste—and it did 
lie waste; it was not that the daughters of Jerusalem were 
slain, and her streets ran red—and they did run red; but it 
was the Temple—the Temple of the Lord, with its altars, its 
sanctuary, its holy of holies leveled to the ground—rubbish 
where beauty stood, ruin where strength was: its glory fled, 
its music ceased, its solemn assemblies no more, and its priest¬ 
hood immolated, or carried far away. These had shed their 
glory over Israel, and over all the land, and it was the de¬ 
struction of these which gave its tone of woe to the heart of 
the Israelite indeed. Yet the feelings which fill his heart to 
bursting are of a complicated character. A sense of Israel’s 
past glory mingles with a sense of her guilt; he weeps over 


344 


PROPHETS OP TIIE BIBLE 


her ruin the more bitterly that it is self inflicted. There is 
no protest against the severity of the Divine judgments, 
and yet no patriot can more keenly appreciate, vividly de¬ 
scribe, or loudly lament the splendors that were no more. 
We can conceive an angrier prophetic spirit finding a savage 
luxury in comparing the deserted streets and desecrated shrines 
of Jerusalem with his own predictions, and crying out,—“ Did 
I not foretell all this?” as with swift resounding strides, flam¬ 
ing eye, gaunt cheek 
and disheveled hair, 
he passed on his 
way through them, 
like the spirit of 
their desolation, to 
the wilderness. He 
looks upon the scene 
with softer feelings, 
identifies himself with his country, feels Jerusalem’s sword in 
his own heart, and lingers in fond admiration of its happier 
times, when the sons of Zion were comparable to fine gold— 
when her Nazarites were purer than snow, whiter than milk, 
more ruddy than rubies—when the beloved city was full of 
people, great among the nations, and a princess among the 
provinces—the perfection of beauty and the joy of the whole 
earth. 

HIS SPIRITUAL TEACHING. 

There is a brighter aspect of his mission, which makes it¬ 
self felt, at times even against his own will, or at least without 
his own consciousness. He was “ set over the nations and the 
kingdoms,” not only “to root out, pull down, destroy and 
throw down,” but also “ to build and to plant.” In a higher 
than any merely temporal sense, the constructive part of his 
theology rose immediately from its destructive elements. He 
was, as we have seen, the last of the prophet statesmen; he 













JEREMIAH. 


345 


was projected upon the world out of the failure of the pro¬ 
phetic system. “ His heart within him was broken because 
of the prophets.” “ The Lord was against the prophets.” 
But this brought out more forcibly than ever the essence of 
the prophetic spirit in the ruin of its external frame-work. 
He had no outward signs to which to appeal; even his style, 
grand though at times it be, never rises to the finish or the 
magnificence of Isaiah or of Nahum. But this compels him 
to appeal almost entirely to the moral and spiritual force of 
his prophetic messages, and these prophetic messages he 
places on their highest ground. First of the prophets, he 
proclaims distinctly what had been more or less implied 
throughout, that predictions were subject to no overruling 
necessity, but depended entirely on the moral state of those 
to whom they were addressed; that the most confident assur¬ 
ance of blessing could be frustrated by sin; that the most 
awful warnings of calamity could be averted by repentance. 
He showed that the most sacred words of prophecy might, 
by constant repetition, lose their meaning; that even the very 
name of “ the burden of the Lord,” which had summed up 
the burning thoughts of Amos and Isaiah, was to be discon¬ 
tinued altogether. He showed to the priests who trusted in 
the Temple, that the day was coming when the very fall of 
the Temple, the very loss of the ark itself, might be consid¬ 
ered a boon. They shall no more say, “ the Ark of the 
Covenant of the Lord ; neither shall it come to mind ; neither 
shall they remember it; neither shall they visit it; neither 
shall that be done any more.” The reformation of Josiah ho 
notices only to speak of the uselessness of the much-vaunted 
discovery of the sacred books. “How do ye say, We are 
wise, and the law of the Lord is with us ? Lo, certainly in vain 
hath He made it; the fear of the scribes is in vain.” Yet, 
if we may trust the arguments by which the Book of. Deu¬ 
teronomy has been connected with that revolution, peculiar 
interest attaches to the prophet, who stands to Deuteronomy 


346 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


almost in tlie same relation as that book stands to the rest of 
the Pentateuch. Jeremiah is, above everything else, the 
prophet of the Deuteronomy—of the “Second Law”; not 
merely from the close connection of outward style, but be¬ 
cause he brings out more clearly than any other prophet the 
spiritual lessons of that, the most spiritual of all the Mosaic 
books, and looks forward to the time when his people shall 
be guided by a higher than any merely external law. It is 
to Jeremiah, even more than to Isaiah, that the writers of 
the apostolic age look back, when they wish to describe the 
Dispensation of the Spirit. His predictions of the Anointed 
King are fewer and less distinct than those of the pre¬ 
ceding prophets. But he is the prophet beyond all others 
of “ the New Testament,” “the New Covenant”—which first 
appears in his writings. As in the one glance which he casts 
forward to the coming Ruler, it is as the just King, the per¬ 
sonification of Divine Justice, in contrast to the weak and 
wayward rule of the unhappy princes that closed the line of 
Judah, so amidst the degradation of the prophetic and priestly 
offices, he consoles himself with the thought, that whilst even 
the Divine Covenant of the ancient law is to be abolished 
there is to be a new covenant, a new" understanding between 
God and man'; a new law, more sacred even than Deuter¬ 
onomy, written not in any outward book, or by any inspira¬ 
tion of words and letters, but in the hearts and spirits of those 
who will thus be brought into union with God. And the 
knowledge of this new truth shall no longer be confined to 
any single order or caste, but “ all shall know the Lord from 
the least unto the greatest.” With this conviction, there was 
no bound to the extent of his hopes. In the letter they have 
been but scantily and imperfectly realized, but in the spirit 
they have been fulfilled more widely than even he ventured 
to predict; for they were founded on the eternal law of moral 
progress and spiritual regeneration, more fixed than that 
“ which giveth the sun for a light by day, the ordinances of 


JEREMIAH. 


347 


the moon and stars for a light by night, which divideth the 
sea when its waves roar.” The eulogy of the law in the 119th 
Psalm, in the peculiar rhythm which marks the poetry of 
this age of the Jewish Church, is but a prolonged expression 
of Jeremiah’s hope, the transfiguration of the ancient Mosaic 
system in the sunset of the declining monarchy, before the 
night will be succeeded by a more glorious dawn. “ 1 see 
that all things come to an end; but thy commandment is ex¬ 
ceeding broad.” This is the reward of the truthfulness of 
his character. To read in the possibilities of the future a 
balance for the difficulties of the present, was his compensa¬ 
tion for the rare gift of seeing things as they really were, 
through no false or colored medium. He “stood” firmly “on 
the old ways ” ; felt their weakness and their strength ; saw 
where they failed and where they were solid, and therefore 
he was able to look out and discern “the good way ” in which 
henceforth his church and country could walk. 

We can only notice a few events in the life of the sweet, 
sad singer of Israel. We have fuller details of his history 
than of most of the other prophets. Isaiah, Elijah and Eze¬ 
kiel, “ come like shadows, so depart.” We know little of their 
ordinary life. They appear only on great occasions, and their 
appearance, like that 
of a comet, is gener¬ 
ally a signal for sur¬ 
prise or terror. We 
can scarcely conceive 
of them suffering 
from common calam¬ 
ities, although sub¬ 
lime agonies are often 



ASSYRIAN KN8IGNS. 


theirs. Isaiah, in the stocks, instead of turning back the 
shadow of Ahaz; Ezekiel, drawn up by a rope of rags from a 
dungeon, instead of being snatched away by the locks of his 
head toward heaven, seem incongruous conceptions. But 












348 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


we find Jeremiah smitten, put in the stocks, the yoke upon 
his neck broken; we see him sinking in the mire of the 
dungeons, and drawn up thence by cords; we find many 
similar incidents recorded in his history, which add to 
its humanity, and bring the suffering, solitary man near to 
us. “ Alas! my brother,” is our exclamation, as we witness 
his woes. A brother’s voice, now tremulous with grief, now 
urgent in entreaty, now loud in anger, and now swelling into 
lofty poetry, sounds down upon us through the solemn cen¬ 
turies of the past, and we grieve that the grave denies us the 
blessings of a brother’s presence, and the pressure of a brother’s 
hand. 


DECLINE OF JUDAH. 

The struggles of the expiring kingdom of Judah are like 
those of a hunted animal—now flying, now standing at bay, 
between two huge beasts of prey, which, whilst their main 
object is to devour each other, turn aside from time to time 
to snatch at the smaller victim that has crossed their midway 
path. It was not now a question of independence, but of 
choice between* two foreign sovereigns, the kings of Egypt 
and Babylon. In this last decline of the State there were 
prophets to bear witness to the truth. But the chief monitor 
was Jeremiah. In the court of the Temple, in the midst of 
a vast assemblage, headed by the Priestly and Prophetic orders, 
the prophet rose up and delivered an appeal which contained 
almost every element of his teaching. It struck the succes¬ 
sive chords of invective, irony, bitter grief, and passionate la¬ 
mentation. It touched on all the topics on which his country¬ 
men would be most sensitive—not only the idolatrous charms 
by which they hoped to win the favor of the Phenician 
deities, in whom they perhaps but only half believed, but on 
the uselessness and impending fall of the ancient institutions, 
which had seemed to contain a promise of eternal duration— 
the Temple of Solomon, the Mosaic Ritual, the Royal Sepul- 


JEREMIAH. 


349 


chers, the Holy City, the Chosen People, the sacred rite of 
Circumcision. But the main point of his address was when 
he reminded them of the last signal overthrow of the national 
sanctuary, and bade them see with their own eyes, not thirty 
miles from Jerusalem, the desolate state of Shiloh. It was 
as if the picture of the ruined shrine of Eli and Samuel was too 
much to be borne by the priests and the prophets who sur¬ 
rounded the Temple court. They closed upon him, as in like 
manner upon Paul on the same spot six hundred years after. 
As then, so now, the deliverance of the prophet from the fury 
of the religious world came from the calmer and juster view 
of the secular power. The princes or nobles, who in these 
latter reigns had almost turned the monarchy into an oli¬ 
garchy, were assembled in the king’s palace, when they were 
summoned by the tumult in the Temple to the judgment-seat, 
within a gate newly erected, perhaps in Josiah’s repairs, and 
called, in the fervor of his zeal, “ The gate of Jehovah.” There 
the prophet pleaded for his life, and the nobles, reckless and 
worldly as they were, with a deeper sense of justice than his 
fanatical assailants, solemnly acquitted him. 

And now the Assyrian empire vanished from the earth, 
and in its place arose, in the plenitude of its greatness, the 
Babylonian empire, under the guidance, first of Nabopolas- 
sar, known to us only through the fragments of heathen an¬ 
nalists, and of his greater son, Nebuchadnezzar, who for the 
the next thirty years, occupies in the horizon of Asia and 
Egypt the position of Sennacherib, and yet earlier of 
Rameses II. It seemed to those who witnessed it like the 
rising of a mighty eagle, spreading out his vast wings, feath¬ 
ering with the innumerable colors of the variegated masses 
which composed the Chaldean host, sweeping over the differ¬ 
ent countries, and striking fear in his rapid flight. The main 
object is Egypt and the unhappy Jewish nation, which, in de¬ 
fiance of prophetic warnings, has allowed Egypt to make it 
her instrument. 


350 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


It was at Carchemish, an ancient fortress commanding the 
passage of the Euphrates, that the collision took place. The 
Egyptian army had come against it, with all its glittering array 
of buckler and shield, helmets, spears, and coats of mail, of 
chariots and horses, from all its subject nations, like the ris¬ 
ing flood of its own Nile, and thence was driven back upon 
itself by the Babylonian host. To the extremities of Egypt, 
from the cities of the Delta as far as Thebes, the shock was 
felt. With the retreat of Necho, the whole country of Israel 
was left open to the invading army. The snorting of the 
Chaldean horses was heard from the northern frontier at Dan. 
The whole land trembled at the sound of their neighing. Like 
a whirlwind, like a torrent, they swept on. The terrified in¬ 
habitants retired into the fortified towns. Within the walls 
of Jerusalem was seen the unwonted sight of Bedouin Becha- 
bites still preserving their Arab customs unchanged in the 
midst of the capital. The short-sighted rulers had looked for 
peace, but no good came—for a time of health, and behold 
trouble. 


THE POLICY OF JEREMIAH. 

Once more Jeremiah became the center of interest. What 
course would he, the prophet of the age, take in the face of 
this impending calamity ? To all, except those who took the 
widest and deepest view of the prospects of the world and of 
the Church, the stern policy of determined resistance had 
everything to recommend it. But it was that wider view 
which presented the whole subject to the prophet’s eye in a 
different aspect. He foresaw, on the one hand, that the im¬ 
mediate pressure of Babylon was irresistible; but on the 
other hand that it could not last. If Jerusalem could but 
weather the present storm, he was assured that it would 
soon pass by; and that then whatever blessings were bound 
up in the preservation of the House of David and of the Holy 
City would remain intact. His political position has been 


JEREMIAH. 


351 


compared to that of Phocion in the presence of the Mace- 
doman power, and to that of the Achmans in the presence of 
the Roman power. It may still more fitly be compared to 
that of the Jewish Christians in the time of the Christian era, 
when the desperate resistance of the Zealots to the armies of 
Vespasian and Titus hurried on the ruin of the Jewish State, 
m spite of the prudent Josephus, and of One far other than 
Josephus, who, like Jeremiah, stood aloof from all the wild 



intrigues and conspiracies that would have made Him the 
chief ot a nation of insurgents. It may be compared again 
to that of the leaders of the Christian Church, in the dissolu¬ 
tion of the Roman empire—Augustine, who replied to the 
taunts of treason brought against the Christians by foreshad¬ 
owing the rise of the City of God out of the ruins of Rome— 
Salvian, who by his earnest vindication of the moral govern¬ 
ment of God, not less than by his wailings over the calami¬ 
ties of the time, has deserved the name of the Jeremiah of 
his age. It was not indifference to his country, but attach- 


352 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


meat to its permanent interests, with the yet larger conse¬ 
quences wrapt up in them, which induced him to counsel sub¬ 
mission. It was his sense of the inestimable importance of 
that sacred spot, with its sacred institutions, which caused 
him to advise every sacrifice for the sake of retaining it. 
He had the courage, so rare in religious or political leaders, 
to surrender a part for the sake of preserving the whole—to 
embrace in his view the complete relations of the great 
scheme of the world, rather than fix his attention exclusively 
on the one pressing question of the moment. As there are 
times when the constitution must be broken to save the com¬ 
monwealth—when the interests of particular nations or doc¬ 
trines must give way to the preponderating claims of man¬ 
kind or of truth at large—so Jeremiah staked the eternal 
value of the truths which Jerusalem represented against the 
temporary evils of the Chaldean dominion. It was a bitter 
pang, but the result seemed to him worth the cost. 

To steel liis melting heart 
To act the martyr’s sternest part: 

To watch with firm unshrinking eye 
His darling visions as they die, 

Too happy, if, that dreadful day, 

His life be given him for a prey. 

His warnings were repeated with more determined energy as 
the crisis drew nearer. Every common event of life was col¬ 
ored with the hues of the time. The unshaken fidelity of 
the little colony of Rechabites to their ancestral customs sug¬ 
gested the contrast of the broken vows of Israel. The potter’s 
work in the valley of Hinnom, with its surrounding scenes of 
the sacrifices of Tophet, filled his mind with lessons of the 
greatness of the designs of God, guided not by fate or caprice, 
but by the moral deserts of men. He stood with his scroll 
in his hand, containing all the prophecies of the last two and 
twenty years, as though it were a bowl of deadly wine which 
nation after nation was to drink; and as though he saw king 


JEREMIAH. 


353 


upon king, and throne upon throne, reeling, staggering, sick¬ 
ening, with the dreadful draught. At every stage of his 
preaching, the “ theological hatred 5,1 of the ancient Church 
grew fiercer and fiercer. He had touched the teachers in their 
tenderest point by declaring that they had ceased to be nec¬ 
essary. They could not bear to hear that a time was com¬ 
ing when the law should perish from the priest, and counsel 
from the wise, and the word from the prophet. He on his 
side, as he seemed to be hemmed in closer and closer, was 
wound up to a fiercer strain in return. He stood in the ac¬ 
cursed valley of Hinnom once again, and from the potter’s 
store held up an earthenware vessel before the shuddering 
priests and elders, and dashed it in fragments on the ground, 
with the warning cry that thus should Jerusalem and 
its people be shivered to pieces. Whilst his hearers stood 
awe-struck in the valley beneath, the prophet, wrought 
to a yet loftier pitch, mounted the steep hill-side, and 
poured forth the same burning invectives within the 
Temple courts. Then, and not till then, the priestly officer, 
who had special charge of the Temple, seized him, and im¬ 
mured him in a prison, where he was fixed in a rack or pil¬ 
lory, apparently used as the common punishment of unpopu¬ 
lar prophets. For a moment his spirit rose to one of his 
wildest and sternest denunciations, and then, as if overstrained 
by the effort, he sank back into the deepest gloom—the gloom 
of many a lofty soul which feels itself misunderstood by men, 
which can hardly believe that it is not deserted by God. 

BARUCH. 

In this deep distress, one faithful friend is by his side, his 
Elisha, his Timothy—Baruch, the son of Neriali. In their 
prison, or their hiding-place, he heard the rumors of the great 
events which filled the minds and thoughts of the whole peo¬ 
ple. It was then that the resolution was taken of committing 
to writing all the scattered prophecies of the last troubled 


23 


1 Odium tlieologicum. 




354 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


years. Baruch was skilled in the art, and from Jeremiah’s 
dictation, on a roll of parchment, divided into columns, with 
the ink and the reed which, as a scribe, he always carried 
with him, he wrote down the impassioned warnings which 
Jeremiah had already spoken, which were intended, like the 
newly-discovered Law in Josiah’s reign, to warn the king and 
nobles to a sense of their danger. It was determined to seize 
the occasion of a public fast to make the hazardous experi¬ 
ment. On that day, a wintry day in December, Baruch ap¬ 
peared in the chamber of a friendly noble, Gemariah, the son 
of Shaphan, which was apparently over the new gateway al¬ 
ready mentioned. There, from the window or balcon}' of the 
chamber, or from the platform or pillar on which the kings 
had stood on solemn occasions, he recited the long alternation 
of lament and invective to the vast congregation, assembled 
for the national fast. Micaiah, the son of his host, alarmed 
by what he heard, descended the Temple Hill, and communi¬ 
cated it to the princes who, as usual through these disturbed 
reigns, were seated in council in the palace, in the apartments 
of the chief secretary. One of them, Jehudi, the descendant 
of a noble house, acted apparently as an agent or spokesman 
of the rest, and was sent to summon Baruch to their presence. 
He sat down in the attitude of an Eastern teacher, and as he 
went on his recital struck terror into the hearts of his hear¬ 
ers. They saw his danger ; they charged him and his master 
to conceal themselves, and deposited the sacred scroll in the 
chamber where they had heard it, whilst they announced to 
the fierce and lawless king its fearful contents. A third time 
it was recited, this time not by Baruch, but by the courtier 
Jehudi, to the king as he sat warming himself over the char¬ 
coal brazier, with his princes standing round him. Three or 
four columns exhausted the royal patience. He seized a 
knife, such as Eastern scribes wear for the sake of erasure, 
cut the parchment into strips, and threw it into the brazier 
till it was burnt to ashes. Those who had heard from their 


JEREMIAH. 


355 



fathers of the effect produced on Josiah by the recital of the 
warnings of Deuteronomy, might well be startled at the con • 
trast. None of those well-known signs of astonishment and 
grief were seen ; neither king nor attendants rent their clothes. 
It was an outrage long remembered. Baruch, in his hiding- 
place, was overwhelmed with despair at this failure of his 
mission. But Jeremiah had now ceased to waver. He bade 
his timid disciple take up the pen, and record once more the 
terrible messages. The country was doomed. It was only 
individuals who could be saved. But the Divine oracle could 
not be destroyed in the destruction of its outward frame-work. 
It was the new form of the vision of the “ bush burning but 
not consumed,” a sacred book, the form in which Divine 
truths were now beginning to be known, burnt as sacred 
books have been burnt 
again and again in the 
persecutions of the 
six- 
yet 
that 


fourth or of the 
teenth century, 
multiplied by 
very cause; springing 
from the flames to do 
their work, living in 
the voice and life of 
men, even when their 

outward letter seemed GOLDEN GATE OP JERUSALEM. 

to be lost. “Then took Jeremiah another roll, and gave 
it to Baruch the scribe, the son of Neriah, who wrote therein 
from the mouth of Jeremiah all the words of the book' which 
Jehoiakim, the king of Judah, had burned in the fire, and 
there were added besides unto them many like words.” In 
this record of the prophet’s feeling, thus emphasized by his 
own repetition, is contained the germ of the “ Liberty of Un¬ 
licensed Printing,” the inexhaustible vitality of the written 
word. This is the first recorded instance of the formation of a 










356 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


canonical book, and of the special purpose of its formation. 
“ The Book” now, as often afterward, was to be the death¬ 
blow of the old regal, aristocratic, sacerdotal exclusiveness, as 
represented in Jehoiakim. The “ Scribe,” now first rising 
into importance in the person of Baruch, to supply the de¬ 
fects of the living prophet, was as the printing-press, in far 
later ages, supplying the defects both of prophet and scribe, 
and handing on *the words of truth which else might have 
irretrievably perished. 

LAST STRUGGLE OF JEREMIAH. 

In the revolt of Zedekiah against the Babylonian or Chal¬ 
dean power, Jeremiah appeared once more in the streets of 
Jerusalem, with a wooden collar round his neck, such as 
those by which the chains of prisoners were fastened—a liv¬ 
ing personification of the coming captivity. In this strange 
guise he went round to the ambassadors from Phenicia and 
the trans-Jordanic nations, to the king himself, and finally to 
the priests in the temple. He was treated alternately as a 
traitor and a madman. Louder and louder round him rose 
the cry of the prophets on all sides, in behalf of a determined 
resistance to the national enemy. At the head of this pro¬ 
phetic band was Hananiah, from the priestly city of Gibeon, 
and therefore probably, like Jeremiah, a priest. The two 
prophets stood confronted in the Temple court. On the one 
side was the watchword, “Ye shall not serve the king of 
Babylon ;” on the other side, “ Serve ye the king of Babylon 
and live.” The controversy between them, taking its form from 
the scene and the audience, turned, as often happens, not on 
the main principles at issue, but on the comparatively trivial 
question of the sacred vessels of the Temple ; Hananiah main¬ 
taining that those which were already gone, would in two 
years entirely return; Jeremiah, with the sadder and larger 
view, maintaining that to recall the past was impossible, and 
that the last hope now was to do the best for the retention of 


JEREMIAH. 


35f 


those that remained to them—not, however, without a 
pathetic wish that his rival’s more hopeful prediction might 
be fulfilled. For the moment Hananiah seemed to triumph 
in the superior confidence of his cause. He tore the wooden 
collar from Jeremiah’s neck, and snapped it asunder, as a sign 
that in two years the deliverance would come. In this con¬ 
flict of mixed emotions, Jeremiah left the Temple courts, 
never to return to them. Only to Hananiah he appeared, 
with the dark warning, that for the broken yoke of wood, he 
had by his false encouragements forged a still harder yoke of 
iron, and that within that year he himself should die. He 
died, in fact, within two months from the time, and in him 
passed away the last echo of the ancient invincible strain of 
the age of Isaiah. 

INVASION. 

The revolt against Babylon continued, and the king of Ju¬ 
dah formed an alliance with Egypt, against which Jeremiah 
in Jerusalem, and Ezekiel from the far East, protested in vain. 
The Chaldean forces poured into the country. With bitter 
sighs, with melting hearts, with feeble hands, with fainting 
spirits, with failing knees, the dreadful tidings were announced. 
A sword, furbished and sharpened, and glittering, seemed to 
leap from the Divine scabbard, like that which in the siege of 
Titus was believed to flame across the heavens. There was 
a doubt for a moment at the dividing of the great Babylonian 
roads, whether the army should proceed against Rabbath of 
Ammon, or Jerusalem of Judah. The Chaldean king stood 
at the parting of the ways. He made his arrows of divina¬ 
tion bright, he consulted with images, he looked on the sac¬ 
rifice. All the omens pointed to Jerusalem, .and to Jerusa¬ 
lem he came. At a lull in the siege, Jeremiah was beaten by 
order of the Jewish nobles, and then imprisoned in a dungeon. 
The king secretly caused him to be removed, heard once more 
his fearless warning and piteous entreaty, and placed h’.m in 


358 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


a more easy confinement in tlie court of a prison attached to 
the palace. The king and the nobles still sent to ask his 
counsel, and still his answer was the same. He was then 
taken to the house of one of his most determined enemies, and 
let down into a deep well, from which the water had been 
dried, but of which the bottom was deep in slime, into which 
he sank, and would probably have perished, either from hun¬ 
ger or suffocation. It is difficult not to imagine a connection 
between this incident and the 69th Psalm: “I sink in the 
mire where there is no bottom. Deliver me out of the mire 
that I sink not! let not the well shut its mouth upon me.” 
“Reproach hath broken my heart! I am sick, and I looked 
for some to take pity, but there was none; and for comforters 
and I found none.” Such a comforter was, however, at hand 
—one of the Ethiopian guards of the royal harem, known by 
the name of “the King’s Slave.” Ebed-melech found the 
king sitting in the great northern entrance of the Temple, and 
obtained a revocation of the order; and then, under the pro¬ 
tection of a strong guard, proceeded with a detailed care, 
which the prophet seems gratefully to record, to throw down 
a mass of soft rags from the royal wardrobe, which were placed 
under his arm-pits to ease the rough ropes with which he was 
drawn out of the well. One more secret interview the prophet 
had with the king, carefully concealed from the imperious 
nobles, and was then remanded to his former State prison, 
where he remained secluded during the rest of the siege, 
though with a certain amount of freedom, and with the com¬ 
panionship of his faithful Baruch. Two striking scenes en¬ 
livened this solitude. One was his grateful remembrance oi 
his Ethiopian benefactor, whose safety in the coming troubles 
he positively predicted. The other was his interview with 
his cousin Hanameel. He was sitting in the open court which 
enclosed the prison, with many of the citizens of Jerusalem 
round him. Suddenly his cousin entered with the offer, start¬ 
ling at that moment of universal confusion, to sell the ances- 


JEREMIAH. 


359 


tral plot of ground at their native Anathoth, of which, in the 
fall of their family, Jeremiah was the last and nearest heir. 
Had the prophet been less assured of the ultimate return of 
his people, he might well have hesitated at a proposal vliich 
seemed only like the mockery that he had before encoum*red 
from his townsmen. But he felt assured that the prtr.ent 



ASSYRIAN KING. 


cloud would pass away, and with a noble confidence, which 
has often been compared to that of the Roman senator who 
bought the ground occupied by the camp of Hannibal, form¬ 
ally purchased the field in the presence of Baruch and the as¬ 
sembled Jews; and then broke out, once and again, first in 
prose and then in poetry, into the expressions of his perfect 
conviction, that after the misery of siege and captivity, the 














360 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


land of Palestine should be again peaceably bought and sold, 
and that for all future ages the royal family of David and the 
Levitical tribe should exercise their functions in a spirit of 
justice never before known within the walls of Jerusalem. It 
is not the only time in the history of States and churches, 
that he who has been denounced as a deserter and traitor, be¬ 
comes in the last extremity the best comforter and counselor. 
Demosthenes, who had warned his fellow-countrymen in his 
earlier days against their excessive confidence, in his later 
days was the only man who could reassure their excessive 
despondency. Herder, who in his earlier days had been at¬ 
tacked by contemporary theologians as a heretic, was, as years 
rolled on, invoked as their only help against the rising tide 
of unbelief. Let all such in every age, accept the omen of 
mingled darkness and light which marks the vicissitudes of 
the career of Jeremiah. 

We have not space to describe the siege and destruction of 
Jerusalem. The fame of Jeremiah had penetrated to 
the camp of the Babylonian king, and Nebuzaradan had ar¬ 
rived at Jerusalem with strict orders to deal kindly with one 
who, in fact, had deserved so well from Chaldea. He 
was taken out of his prison, and with the manacles still on 
his wrists, was hurried away with the mass of captives on the 
northern road. At the first halting-place, by the hill of Ra- 
mah, he was released, with the free choice of a place of high 
favor in the court of Babylon, or of remaining in Palestine. 
“ He refused,” says Josephus, with a glow of patriotic feeling 
which his own political subserviency had not extinguished, 
“ to go to any other spot in the world, and he gladly clung to 
the ruins of his country, and to the hope of living out the rest 
of his life with its surviving relics.” 

He seems, however, not to have met his death in his na¬ 
tive land. When the remnant of the Jews in Palestine fled 
into Egypt, he would seem to have gone with them. Whether, 
according to the Christian tradition, he was stoned to death 


JEREMIAH. 


361 


by bis fellow-exiles, or whether, according to the Jewish tra¬ 
dition, he made his escape to Babylon, the Hebrew Scriptures 
and Josephus are equally silent. But his legendary and tra¬ 
ditional fame shows how large a space he occupied hencefor¬ 
ward in the thoughts of his countrymen. More than any 
other of their heroes, he becomes, as has been truly said, the 
patron saint of Judea. He is the guardian of their sacred 
relics. The apocryphal books represent him as carrying off 
with him the sacred fire from the altar ; ascending “ the moun¬ 
tain of Sinai, where Moses climbed up and saw the heritage 
of God, and there, in a hollow cave, laying the tabernacle, the 
ark, and the altar of incense, and closing the door until the 
time that God shall gather His people again together, and re¬ 
ceive them into mercy.” He appears in a vision to Judas 
Maccabeus, “ with gray hairs, exceeding glorious, of a won¬ 
derful and excellent majesty, with a sword of gold in his right 
hand, a gift from God” to the patriot warrior, “ wherewith he 
shall wound the adversaries.” That peculiar intercessory 
mediation which even those who most feared and detested 
him, believed that he possessed in life, he was thought to ex¬ 
ercise with yet more potent efficacy after his death—“a lover 
of the brethren, who prayeth much for the people and for the 
Holy City, Jeremiah the Prophet of God.” As time rolled 
on, he became the chief representative of the whole prophetic 
order. By some he was placed at the head of all the prophets 
in the Jewish canon. His spirit was believed to live on in 
Zechariah and in all the prophetical writings which could not 
be traced back to their real author. At the time of the 
Christian era, his return was daily expected. He was em¬ 
phatically thought to be “ The Prophet,” “ the prophet like 
unto Moses, who should close the whole dispensation.” 

So long a trail of posthumous fame following on so long a 
life of misunderstanding and persecution, and perhaps even a 
death of martyrdom, makes Jeremiah stand forth from the 
whole ancient dispensation as the most signal instance of the 


362 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


happy inconsistency with which churches and nations build 
the tombs of the prophets whom their fathers have stoned. 
So magnificent a future, following on a life and death of such 
continual suffering, introduces a new idea into the prophetic 
doctrine, which henceforth assumes proportions more and 
more definite. His contemporaries can have hardly failed to 
recognize the parallel which Saadia in the Jewish Church, 
and Grotius in the Christian Church, first drew out at length be¬ 
tween the servant of God, “ despised and rejected of men—a 
man of sorrows and acquainted with grief,” and Jeremiah, led 
“ as a lamb to the slaughter,” laden with sorrows, betrayed 
by his friends, “ ever making intercession for the transgres¬ 
sors,” “ stricken for the transgression of his people.” As Jere- 
miah was “ The Prophet” who, more than any other, seemed 
to live over again in the life of the Prophet of Nazareth, so the 
sorrows of Jeremiah, more than those of any other single pro¬ 
phet, correspond to the desertion, the isolation, the tenderness, 
the death, and the final glorification of the Divine Sufferer. His 
“ Lamentations,” by the sacredness of the grief which they de¬ 
pict, by the grandeur of the prophetic character which they 
represent, are not unworthy of the solemn and melancholy use 
to which they have been consecrated by the Latin Church in 
its celebration of the passion of Gethsemane and Calvary. 

In a well-known picture our Lord is represented as the 
Good Shepherd taking a lost sheep out of the thorns; and 
Himself wearing a crown of thorns with a bleeding counte¬ 
nance. It is this throughout that speaks in the prophet Jere¬ 
miah. It is the bleeding Shepherd extricating His lost sheep 
from among the thorns of the world. The penitent of all 
ages and countries, in studying the Bible in order to know 
himself of God, naturally reads the prophet under this im¬ 
pression. The feeling with which a devout person looks on 
that touching representation of Christ, is like that which the 
reverential reader experiences when hearing in Jeremiah the 
voice of the Good Shepherd. 












> 


* 


















































4 . 








• ■ • • . 9 » 

• • - .4 


v.: •: •.v/ 
















THE VALLEY OF DRY BONES 




















































































































































































































VIII. 

EZEKIEL. 


Contemporary with Jeremiah—Prophecies in Captivity-Applies the 
Imagery of the East—Priest as well as Prophet—Gigantic Emblems— 
His Prophecies of Jerusalem—Symbolic Acts—Dispensation of the 
Spirit—Individual Responsibility—The Gospel According to Ezekiel— 
Ropent and be Saved —“ Why will Ye Die ?”—Vision of Dry Bones— 
Revival—The Mystic City and the Flowing Waters—Characteristics of 
Ezekiel—Lofty Grandeur of his Visions—Typical Acts and Attitudes— 
Boldness of His Spirit and Vehemence of Language—Rare Beauty— 
Practical Appeals-A Burning Portent in the Old Testament Sky—How 
does our Fancy Paint the Prophet ? 

The great prophets came for the most part in succession ; 
when one departed another arose, as watchmen in the dark 
days ; they passed on the lamp one to another; for God left 
not His Church without witnesses. But now when His people 
were divided, some being still left in Jerusalem before its de¬ 
struction, while others were carried captive to Babylon, the 
light becomes two-fold; Jeremiah and Ezekiel prophesy to¬ 
gether—the one in Jerusalem, the other b*y the river Chebar 
in the captivity of Babylon ; for Ezekiel had been taken there 
among the captives eleven years before Jerusalem was de¬ 
stroyed. It is said that his prophecies were carried to Jeru¬ 
salem, and those of Jeremiah brought to Babylon ; and thus 
these two great prophets united their lights together. 
Though vast distances intervened, they mingled their tears. 

How great a change must have come over the mind of an 
Israelite who had been carried away to Babylon, the great 
city of wonders, the seat of Oriental magnificence, of the wis¬ 
dom of the ancients ; where the Chaldeans watched the stars 
in the broad expanse of Eastern plains; the country whence 



366 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


Egypt itself derived its language of mystery, making “ living 
creatures” to represent tlie spiritual and Divine. 

Like St. Paul at Rome, Ezekiel is a captive ; but “ the 
word of God is not bound.” And now, to speak to captive 
Israel, the prophet takes up his parable from Babylon, and 
applies the new imagery and scenes of the East. The God 
of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is henceforth known by a new 
name, as the “ Lord of Hosts,” the God of those armies of 
heaven whom the Babylonians ignorantly worshiped. The 
Spirit clothes itself with new language, and one meet for that 
language is chosen; the earthen vessel is moulded by the 
Divine hand for this use. As the Gospel comes to us in the 
garb of Greek and Roman simplicity, so the prophets of 
the captivity speak with the wonderful visions and symbols 
of the East, each with its appropriate adaptation of God. 

Like Jeremiah, Ezekiel was a priest as well as a prophet, 
but with the priestly element more largely developed ; and 
also one step further removed from the ancient prophets, in¬ 
asmuch as he is the first 
in whom the author 
and the writer entirely 
preponderate over the 
seer, the poet, and the 
statesman. The scroll 
and the inkhorn, which 
we see only from time to 
time in Jeremiah, are never absent from Ezekiel. The 
speeches and odes of the earlier prophets have been preserved 
according to the original character of their utterance, in scat-. 
tered fragments ; Ezekiel’s first constitute a book, arranged 
in regular chronological order from beginning to end. The 
atmosphere which he breathes, the vision by which he is 
called to his office, are alike strange to the older period ; no 
longer Hebrew, but Asiatic; no longer the single, simple 
figure of cloud, or flame, or majestic human form, which had 









EZEKIEL. 


367 


been the means of conveying the truth of the Divine Presence 
to Moses or Isaiah, but a vast complexity, “wheel within 
wheel,” as if corresponding to the new order of a larger, 
wider, deeper Providence now opening before him. The im¬ 
agery that he sees, is that which no one could have used 
unless he had wandered through the vast halls of Assyrian 
palaces, and there gazed on all that Assyrian monuments 
have disclosed to us of human dignity and brute strength 
combined—the eagle-winged lion, the human-headed bull. 
These complicated forms supplied the vehicle of the sublime 
truths that dawned on him from amidst the mystic wheels, the 
sapphire throne, the amber fire, and the rainbow brightness; 
the four living creatures setting forth the incarnation of 
Christ; the face of a man; the lion speaking His kingdom 
and strength; the ox the sacrifice of His death; the eagle 
His resurrection and Godhead. In the visions of the prophet, 
we have the last glimpse of those gigantic emblems, which van¬ 
ished during his life-time, only to reappear in our own age, 
from the ruins of the long-lost Nineveh. 

Later traditions fondly identified him with his Mesopotamian 
home. In them he was represented as foretelling the flood of 
the river by which they were encamped; and as judging the 
tribes of Gad and Dan. He was buried in state near Babylon, 
in a sepulcher which has for centuries been visited by Jewish 
pilgrims, who believe that it was erected by Jehoiachin, and 
that the lamp which still burns upon it was lighted by Ezekiel 
himself. But according to the prophet’s own record of his 
life, his heart was not in the land of his exile, but “ in the 
land of his nativity.” His own home, where he dwelt with 
his wife, and guided the counsels of the small community of 
the Chebar, faded from his eyes. Across the rich garden of 
that fertile region, across the vast Euphrates, across the inter¬ 
vening desert, his spirit still yearned toward Jerusalem, still 
lived in the Temple courts where once he had ministered. 
Though an exile, he was still one with his countrymen; and 


368 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


in the sense of that union, and in the strength of a mightier 
power than his own, the bounds of space and time were over 
leaped, and during the seven years that elapsed before the city 
was overthrown, he lived absorbed in the prophetic sight of 
the things that were to be, and in the prophetic hearing of 
the words that were to be spoken, in this last crisis of his 
country’s fate. 

HIS PROPHECIES OF JERUSALEM. 

In the presence of the impending catastrophe, he was 
amidst his fellow-exiles, exactly as Jeremiah amidst his fellow- 



ASSYRIAN SPHINX. 


citizens. An unshakable courage and confidence was needed 
to bear up against the words and looks of fury with which 
each was assailed. Each of the two prophets is the echo of 
the other’s sorrow. Deep answers to deep across the Assyrian 
desert; the depth of woe in him who, from the walls of Zion, 
saw the storm approaching, is equaled if not surpassed, by 
the depth of woe in him who lived, as it were, in the skirts of 
the storm itself—“ the whirlwind, the great cloud, the fire 
unfolding itself from the north gathering round the whole 
horizon before it reached the frontiers of Palestine. Not only 
in his words, but in his acts, he was to be a perpetual witness 












EZEKIEL. 


369 


of the coming desolation. Now he might be seen portraying 
on a tile all the details of the siege of the city; then again 
he would lie stretched out motionless, for more than a year, 
like one crushed to the ground under the burden of his peo¬ 
ple’s sins. At other times he was to be seen, stamping with 
his feet and clasping his hands, in the agony of grief, or stir¬ 
ring a huge caldron, as if of the scum of his country’s misery. 
Then again he would fix their attention by acts most abhor¬ 
rent to his nature and his priestly calling. He cut off, lock 
by lock, the long tresses of his hair and beard, the peculiar 
marks of his sacerdotal office, and one by one threw them into 
the fire. He ate the filthy food which belonged only to the 
worst extremity of famine. And last of all, when the fatal 
day arrived, when the armies of Nebuchadnezzar had gathered 
round the walls of Jerusalem, the last and most awful sign 
was given to show how great and how irresistible was the 
calamity. On the evening of that day his wife died. The 
desire of his eyes was taken from him by a sudden stroke. 
And yet when the sun rose, and as the hours of the day 
passed on, he appeared in public with none of the frantic 
tokens of Oriental grief. He raised no piercing cry for the 
dead; he shed not a tear; the turban, which should have 
been dashed in anguish on the ground, was on his head; the 
feet that should have been bare were sandaled as usual. He 
did in all things as he would have done had no calamity over¬ 
taken him—himself the living sign and personification of a 
grief too deep for tears, too terrible for any funereal dirge 
either to arrest or to express. Well might the roll which 
was placed in his hand seem to be “ written within and with¬ 
out with lamentations, and mourning, and woe.” 

But as in the case of Jeremiah, so in the case of Ezekiel, there 
was sweetness as of honey mingled with bitterness in his grief. 
What had appeared in germ in the writings of Jeremiah, was 
repeated in a fuller shape by Ezekiel. He is the disciple, 
such as has often been seen both in philosophy and theology, 
24 


310 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


carrying out into their most startling consequences the prin¬ 
ciples barely disclosed by the teacher. He as well as Jere¬ 
miah is a prophet especially of the second law—of the law 
written in the heart. He too reviews the history of the cho¬ 
sen people, and has the courage to treat them like any other 
people ; to point out the natural and ethnological origin of the 


Holy City—Amorite and Hit- 
tite by birth—the failure even 
of the ancient rite of circum¬ 
cision as a safeguard for the 
nations which had adopted it. 
He too is the witness of the 
dispensation of the Spirit; he 
sets forth, in language which 



ASSYRIAN GRIFFIN. 


belongs rather to the coming than the departing epoch, the 
magic transformation of himself, of his country, of its dead 
institutions, by the “ Spirit” which breathes through all his 
visions; the breath of life which was in the utmost complex¬ 
ity of that Divine mechanism, in the utmost variety of those 
strange shapes, through which he was called to his mission. 
But the form in which this doctrine acquires in his hands the 
newest development is that of the responsibility of the indi¬ 
vidual soul separate from the collective nation, separate from 
the good or ill deserts of ancestry. The note which is struck 
for a moment by Jeremiah is taken up by Ezekiel with a 
force and energy which makes his announcement of it ring 
again and again from end to end of his writings. “ When 
the wicked man turneth away from his wickedness, and doeth 
that which is lawful and right, he shall save his soul alive.” 
Other prophets have more of poetical beauty, a deeper sense 
of Divine things, a tenderer feeling of the mercies of God for 
His people; none teach so simply, and with a simplicity the 
more remarkable from the elaborate imagery out of which it 
emerges, this great moral lesson, to us the first of all lessons. 
In the midst of this national revolution, when the day of 



EZEKJEL. 


3 U 


mercy is past, and when no image is too loathsome to describe 
the iniquities of Israel, the prophet is not tempted to demand 
the destruction of the righteous with the wicked, nor the 
salvation of the wicked for the sake of the righteous. He 
contemplates the extremest case of the venerable patriarchs 
of former ages, or perhaps of his own,—Noah, Daniel, and 
Job—and yet feels that even they could save neither son nor 
daughter; they shall but deliver their own souls by their 
righteousness. He blames equally those false teachers who 
make the heart of the wicked glad, whom the Lord hath not 
made glad, and those who make the heart of the righteous 
sad, whom the Lord hath not made sad. The old Mosaic pre¬ 
cept of the visitation of the sins of the fathers upon the chil¬ 
dren, had become popularized into the proverb afloat both in 
Jerusalem and in Chaldea, that “the fathers have eaten sour 
grapes and the children’s teeth are set on edge.” But in spite 
of its own authority and its acceptance by his countrymen, 
and although containing a partial truth, it is put to flight be¬ 
fore Ezekiel’s announcement of the still loftier principle, “all 
souls are God’s; as the soul of the father, so is the soul of the 
son. The soul that sinneth, it shall die. He that hath with¬ 
drawn his hand from iniquity . . . . he is just; he shall surely 
live.” 

In words like these, both before and after the fall of his 
country, the mighty soul of the priestly prophet poured itself 
out. How startling a doctrine to his own generation is 
evident from the iron firmness which was needed to pro¬ 
claim it; a forehead of adamant, harder than flint, a heart 
never dismayed. How startling to the Jewish Church of 
after times we learn from the narrow escape which this won¬ 
derful book sustained, on this very account, of exclusion from 
the sacred canon altogether. The masters of the synagogue 
hesitated long before they could receive into the sacred writ¬ 
ings a prophet who seemed boldly to contradict the very Pen¬ 
tateuch itself; and even when they received it, attempted, it is 


372 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


said, to rewrite his burning words, in order to bring, them into 
accordance with the popular theology of their day. It is 
hardly possible to overrate the vast importance of this, the 
last expiring cry of the Jewish monarchy, which both from 
its indispensable connection with the very foundation of 
Christian doctrine, and from the supernatural energy of its 
inspiration, may be truly called the Gospel according to Eze¬ 



kiel. Nor is its universal significance impaired, because it is 
we may say, wrung out of him by the cruel necessities of the 
age, at once their consolation and their justification. In or¬ 
dinary times, the mutual dependence of man on man, the con¬ 
trol of circumstances, the hereditary contagion of sin and 
misery, fall in with the older view which Ezekiel combats. 
But it is the special use of such critical calamities as that of the 
fall of Jerusalem, that they reveal to us in a higher and still 
more important sense the absolute independence of man from 
man; the truth that we are not merely parts of a long chain 
of circumstances which cannot be broken, but that we must 
each one live for himself and die for himself. Ezekiel set 












EZEKIEL. 


373 


forth in his own person the inalienable freedom of each indi¬ 
vidual conscience and will, and he taught with the clearness 
of the New Testament the doctrine that whoever truly repents of 
sin will be accepted of God. However unfavorable our pos¬ 
ition to the practice of virtue, whatever depraved dispositions 
we inherit, and even physical tendencies to sin, whatever sur¬ 
roundings of crime and calamity our ancestors have be¬ 
queathed to us, whatever our own transgressions, there is 
still hope for us if we will repent. It is still possible by God’s 
grace to turn and live. God knows our whole case, with its 
palliations and its aggravations. He will deal justly with us. 
And if we repent, He will have mercy on us. And He will 
give us grace to enable us to repent. And the extent of our 
need will be the measure of His grace. No difficulties need 
discourage us, no hard thoughts of God’s government fill us 
with dismay. He takes no pleasure in the death of the wicked 
but that he turn from his way and live. “ Turn ye, turn ye, 
for why will ye die ? ” 

So clearly does Ezekiel preach the Gospel, so strongly does 
he state the doctrine of man’s responsibility, and God’s jus¬ 
tice and mercy and grace. 

VISION OF DRY BONES. 

We come now to a remarkable incident in the life of the 
prophet. The hand of the Lord was upon him, and set him 
down in the midst of the wide open plain of Mesopotamia 
In that desert tract was the sight so familiar to passers through 
the wilderness—bones and skeletons of man and beast, dry 
and bleaching on the yellow sands, the remnants of some vast 
caravan leaving behind it its fifties and its hundreds to perish 
of hunger or weariness; or the burial-place of some wild 
tribe or some mighty host of ancient days, whose remains, 
long covered by the dust, some passing whirlwind had re¬ 
vealed to view. Round these dry and lifeless relics, the 


374 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


prophet was in his vision bid to walk to and fro, and to utter the 
loud chant of his prophetic utterances. He prophesied, and as 
his voice sounded through the stillness of the desert air, there 
was an answering peal as of thunder, and the hard earth shook 
under his feet, and the bones came 
together, and the sinews and the 
flesh once more crept over them, 
and they lay, still dead and lifeless, 
but like the corpses of a vast mul¬ 
titude from whom breath has just 
departed. Again he raised his 
wild chant, and the wind on which 
he himself had been borne w r as 
swelled as by a rushing blast from 
the four corners of the wilderness, 
and the corpses lived and stood on 
their feet, and the lonely desert 
was peopled with an exceeding 
great army. Even without the 
Divine interpretation which fol¬ 
lowed, the meaning of the vis¬ 
ion was clear. Those bones in 
the desert were, indeed, an apt 
emblem of the race of Israel, 
scattered, divided each from each, 
their “ bones dried,” “ their hope 
lost.” That revival—the pledge and likeness of all revivals 
for all future ages, was a fit likeness of that to which they 
were now to look forward, when the grave of their cap¬ 
tivity would be opened, when the skeleton of Judaism would 
come out from its tomb, and be inspired with the invigorating 
blast of the Divine Spirit, and be clothed with fresh and liv 
ing beauty. 

Yet more encouraging is the closing vision of the prophet’s 
life. Again, as in his earlier days, but now with a wholly 
















EZEKIEL. 


375 


different purpose, the same Divine hand seizes him, and trans¬ 
ports him to his native country. In the visions of God he 
stands on the summit of a high mountain, and there is re¬ 
vealed to him the mysterious plan of a city and temple, ex¬ 
actly corresponding to that which he had known in his youth, 
even down to minute details, but on a gigantic scale. And 
from under the Temple porch he sees the perennial spring 
which lay hid within the rocky vault burst forth into a full 
and overflowing stream, which pours down the terraces to¬ 
ward the eastern gate. The 
dry bed of the Kedron is 
filled with a mighty torrent, 
which rises higher and higher 
till it becomes a vast river, 
and the rugged and sterile 

rocks which line its course winged deity ov ASSYRIA, 

break out into verdure, and through the two deep defiles the 
stream divides and forces its way into the desert plain of the 
Jordan, and into the lifeless waters of the Salt Sea, and the 
Sea of Death begins to teem with living creatures and with 
innumerable fish, like the Sea of Tiberias or the Mediterra¬ 
nean, and the fishermen stand all along its banks to watch the 
transformation, and according to the sight so common in 
Eastern countries, the life-giving water is everywhere fol¬ 
lowed by the growth of luxuriant vegetation—“ trees for 
food, whose leaf shall not fade, neither shall the fruit thereof 
be consumed.” 

We may notice, in closing, some of the peculiar character¬ 
istics of Ezekiel. Mark, first, the lofty and visionary ground¬ 
work of his prophecy. It is the record of a succession of 
trances. The prophet usually hangs high between earth and 
the regions of the ethereal. A scenery gigantic as that of 
dreams, select as that of pictures, rich as that of fancy, and dis¬ 
tinct as that of nature, surrounds his motions, and swims before 
his eye. The shapes which he had seen in the Temple, or with 








3T6 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


which his imagination had become familiar in Chaldea, come 
back upon his vision while in the prophetic state, but come 
back altered in form, enlarged in size, and shining in the ra¬ 
diance of the Divine glory. How terrific the composite of 
the four living creatures, with their four faces and wings, 
seen amid a confusion of light and darkness, of still fire and 
leaping lightnings, of burnished brass and burning coals, 
coupled with the high rings of the eyed wheels, unified 
by the Spirit moving in them all, overhung by the terrible 



crystal of the firmament, 
and that again by the 
similitude of a man seat¬ 
ed upon it—surround¬ 
ed as they pursue their 
straight, stern path, by 
the girdle of a rainbow, 
which softens the fiery 


WINGED DEITY OF ASSYRIA. 


storm, and moving to the music of a multitude of waters, “as 
the noise of an host,” which is commanded from above by a 
mightier, solitary voice—the voice of the Eternal I What 
pencil shall represent to us the glory of this apparition ? Or 
who, but one whose brow had been made adamant, and whose 
eye had been cleansed with lightning, could have faced it as 
it passed ? Or shall we look at the prophet again, seized by 
the form of a man’s hand, lifted up by a lock of his hair be¬ 
tween earth and heaven, and brought from Chebar to Jerusa¬ 
lem ? Or shall we follow him, as he passes down the deepen¬ 
ing abominations of his country? Or shall we descend after 
him into the nameless valley of vision ? Or shall we take our 
stand beside him on that high hill, higher far than that of 
Mirza’s vision, or than any peak in the Delectable Mountains, 
and see the great city on the south, or hear the rush of the 
holy waters encompassing the earth ? Visions these, which 
human language is too poor to describe. From heaven, in 
some clear future day, might be expected to fall down at once 



EZEKIEL. 


377 


the epithets which can express their glory, and the light which 
can explain their meaning. 

Mark, next, besides his visions, a singular abundance and 
variety of typical acts and attitudes. Now he eats a roll of 
a deadly sweetness. Now he enacts a mimic siege against a 
tile, representing Jerusalem. Now he shaves his beard and 
hair, and burns a third part in the fire, smites a third part 
with a knife, scatters a third part to the winds, reserving only 
a few hairs as a remnant. Now he makes and shows a chain, 
as the worthy recompense of 'an evil and insane generation. 
Now he prepares stuff for removing, and brings it out day 
after day in the sight of all. Now he stands with bread and 
water in his hands, but with bread, water, hands, body and 
head trembling, as if in some unheard storm, as a sign of 
coming tremors and tempests among his people. And now, 
sad necessity, the desire of his eyes, his wife is taken away by 
a stroke; yet G6d’s seal is set upon his lips, forbidding him 
to mourn. It was the sole link binding him to earth, and 
once broken, he becomes loosened, and free as a column of 
smoke separated from the sacrifice, and gilded into flame by 
the setting sun. 

Such types suited the ardent temperament of the East. 
They were its best oratorical gestures. They expressed what 
the waving of hands, the bending of knees, the beating of 
breasts could not fully do. They were solidified figures. 
Modern ages can show nothing equal or similar, and the roll, 
the tile, the hair, the chain, the quaking bread and water of 
Ezekiel, must be preserved as specimens of an extinct tongue, 
the strangest and the strongest ever spoken on earth. 

Mark, next, a peculiar boldness of spirit and vehemence of 
language. How can he fear man, who had trembled not in 
the presence of visions, the report of which on his page is yet 
able to bristle the hair and chill the blood ? Thrown into 
heaven’s heat, as into a furnace, he comes forth indurated to 
suffering and to shame, his face a flint, his brow adamant, his 


378 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


eye a coal of supernatural fire. Ever afterward, Ids style 
seems hurrying in chase of the “ wheels,” and his colors of 
speech are changing and gorgeous as the light which sur¬ 
rounded them. A certain rough power, too, distinguishes 
many of his chapters. He is “naked and is not ashamed.” 
As he felt bound to give a severe and literal transcript of the 
“ things of heaven” which he saw, he conceives himself bound 
also literally to transcribe the things of earth and hell. Not¬ 
withstanding this impetuosity, there comes sometimes across 
his jet-black lyre, with its fiery strings, a soft, beautiful 
music, which sounds more sweetly and strangely from the 
medium it has found. It is not pathos, but elegant beauty, 
reposing amid rude strength, like a finished statue found in 
an aboriginal cave. There is, for instance, a picture in the 
sixteenth chapter, which high literary authority pronounces 
“ the most delicately beautiful in the written language of 
men.” “Then washed I thee with water ; yea, I thoroughly 
washed away thy blood from thee, and I anointed thee with 
oil. I clothed thee also with broidered work, and shod thee 
with badger’s skin, and I girded thee about with fine linen, 
and I covered thee with silk. I decked thee also with orna¬ 
ments, and I put bracelets upon thy hands, and a chain on 
thy neck. And I put a jewel on thy forehead, and ear-rings 
in thine ears, and a beautiful crown upon thine head. Thus 
wast thou decked with gold and silver, and thy raiment was 
of fine linen, and silk, and broidered work ; thou didst eat 
fine flour, and honey, and oil: and thou wast exceeding beau¬ 
tiful, and thou didst prosper into a kingdom.- And thy re¬ 
nown went forth among the heathen for thy beauty: for it 
was perfect through my comeliness, which I had put upon 
thee, saith the Lord God.” This seems a fragment of Solo¬ 
mon’s Song; it is a jewel dropped from the forehead of his 
“ spouse,” and acts as a foil to the fearful minuteness of de¬ 
scription which characterizes the rest of the chapter. In this 
point of his genius, Ezekiel resembles Dante. Like Dante, he 


EZEKIEL. 


379 


loves the terrible; but, like Dante, too, the beautiful seems to 
love him. 


Sprinkled, besides, amid the frequent grandeurs and rare 
beauties of his book, are practical appeals, of close and cogent 
force. Such, for instance, are his picture of a watchman’s 
duty, his parable of sour grapes, his addresses at various 
times to the shepherds, to the elders and to the people of Israel. 
From dim, imaginative heights, he comes down, like Moses 



WEEPING WILLOW OP BABYLON. 


from the darkness of Sinai, with face shining and foot stamp¬ 
ing out indignation against a guilty people, who thought him 
lost upon his aerial altitudes. He is at once the most poetical 
and practical of preachers. This paradox has not unfrequently 
been exemplified in the history of preaching, as the names of 
Chrysostom, Taylor, Howe, Hall and Chalmers, can testify. 







380 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


He who is able to fly upward, is able to return, and with ten¬ 
fold impetus, from his flight. The poet, too, has an intuitive 
knowledge of the springs of human nature which no study 
and no experience can fully supply, and which enables him, 
when he turns from his visions to the task, to “ pierce to the 
dividing asunder of soul and spirit, of the joints and mar¬ 
row,” and to become a “discerner of the thoughts and intents 
of the heart.” 

The comparison of a comet, often used, and generally 
wasted, is strikingly applicable to Ezekiel. Sharp, distinct, 
yet nebulous, swift, sword-shaped, blood-red, he hangs in the 
Old Testament sky, rather burning as a portent, than shining 
as a prophet. It is not his magnitude, or solidity, so much 
as his intensity and his strangeness, which astonish you. It is 
not the amount of light he gives which you value so much, 
as the heat, the excitement, and the curiosity which he pro¬ 
duces. “ From what depths, mysterious stranger, hast thou 
come ? what are the tidings of thy shadowed, yet fiery beams ? 
and whither art thou bound ?” are inevitable questions to 
ask, although the answers have not fully arrived. He is a 
treasury of gold and gems, but triple-barred, and guarded by 
watching seraphim. 

Such a being was Ezekiel,—among men, but not of them, 
detained in the company of flesh, his feet on earth, his soul 
floating amid the cherubim. We know little of his history; 
it is marked chiefly by the procession of his predictions, as 
during twenty-one years they marched onward to the moun¬ 
tain-top, where they were abruptly closed. But we cannot 
successfully check our fancy, as she seeks to represent to us 
the face and figure of the prophet. We see him young, slen¬ 
der, long-locked, stooping as if under the burden of the Lord, 
with a visible fire in his eye and cheek, and an invisible fire 
about his motions and gestures—an earnest purpose pursuing 
him like a ghost, a wild beauty hanging around him like the 
blossom on the thorn-tree, and the air of early death adding 


EZEKIEL. 


381 


a supernatural age and dignity to his youthful aspect. We 
see him, as he moved through the land, a sun-gilded storm, 
followed by looks of admiration, wonder and fear; and at last 
w T e behold him on the Mount of Vision, the Pisgah of pro¬ 
phecy, with rapturous wonder saluting the spectacle of the 
mystic city and the holy waters, till the burning soul exhales 
through the burning eyes, and the wearied body falls down in 
his own solitary chamber, and what seemed to be actual vision 
proves to be a dream, but a dream as true as are the future 
reign of Jesus, and the future glory of the City and Church of 
God. 

Thus the prophecies of Ezekiel, like the miracles and para¬ 
bles of our Lord, speak to the eye as well as the ear, and thus 
more powerfully reach and affect the mind. Like the Revela¬ 
tion of John, they are to be approached with caution when we 
would seek to interpret them. One of the Christian Fathers, 
Jerome, says that he was accustomed when young to go on 
the Lord’s day into the caves at Rome where the apostles 
and martyrs were buried, and there in silence and darkness 
amid the chambers of the dead to meditate on the visions of 
Ezekiel, and that thus he learned to approach them with awe 
and reverence, and so in some measure to understand them, 
seeing light, he says, in obscurity, and exclaiming, “ I have 
found Him whom my soul loveth, I will hold Him fast and 
will not let Him go.” Thus “ in the cloudy and dark day ” 
of affliction, we may understand the prophet better, and get 
nearer to the Saviour whom he foretold. And if there be 
much that is mysterious, there is much also that we can 
spiritualize, and use to examine and correct our own hearts, 
and build up our souls in righteousness. The temple of God 
of which the prophet speaks is in one sense our own soul. 
Happy he who mourns for all pollutions and abominations 
that have been there, who puts out from thence all idols, and 
makes it fit for the indwelling of God. Dear reader, above all 


382 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


knowledge, all fame, all worldly success, in importance, is the 
purifying of your own heart! 

“ All arts and knowledge beside 
Will do you little good.” 

Overtopping all is the divine art, the gracious accomplish¬ 
ment, of keeping yourself unspotted from the world. Blessed 
is he who keeps his heart tender and low to understand the 
prophets of God, whether speaking in the plaintive voice of 
Jeremiah amid the ruins of Jerusalem, or the wild harp of 
Ezekiel by the waters of Babylon. Let it not be said of us 
that the prophet is to us “ as a very lovely song of one that 
hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an instrument,” 
for we hear his words, but do them not. 









DANIEL. 










































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































IX. 


DANIEL. 


Babylon—Temple of Being—Hanging Gardens—Daniel Brought to Baby¬ 
lon—The Magi—The Hebrew Youth refuse the Royal Dainties—Their 
Wisdom—Nebuchadnezzar’s Dream—Daniel Recalls and Interprets it— 
Is Exalted to a High Office — Announces God’s Judgment to the King — 
Nebuchadnezzar Driven out to Dwell in the Fields—Cyrus—Mene, 
Mene, Tekel, Upharsin—The Euphrates Drained and Babylon Taken— 
Daniel made Prime Minister—Accused to Darius—Cast into the Lions’ 
Den— 1 The Restoration of the Jews—Daniel’s Visions—What are 
Dreams ?—Messiah Foretold—No Account of Daniel’s Death—The 
Prophets Vanish from Sight but Their Messages Remain. 

In the kingdom of Judah, as in that of the ten tribes, 
the captives were carried off in three detachments. In 
the first of these was Daniel. By order of the king he was 
placed in the royal palace at Babylon to be trained for the 
service of the great conqueror. 

Under the vigorous rule of Nebuchadnezzar, the Chaldean 
empire had rapidly increased, and Babylon had assumed an 
aspect of the greatest magnificence. This wonderful city is 
believed to have occupied the site of the ancient Babel. It 
was situated in a flat, fertile plain, on the banks of the Eu¬ 
phrates, and formed an exact square, each of the sides being 
fifteen miles in length. Its walls were eighty-seven feet in 
thickness, so that several chariots could run abreast along 
their summit, and they were reared to the height of three 
hundred and fifty feet. The vast ditch which encompassed 
the walls had furnished the materials for the large bricks of 
which it was composed, and which also formed the lining of 
the ditch. The layers of the brick were cemented with bitu¬ 
men, abundantly supplied by the pits in the neighborhood. 
25 ( 385 ) 



386 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


Twenty-five gates of brass on each of tbe four sides, formed 
tbe approaches to a corresponding number of streets inter¬ 
secting one another at right angles, each street being fifteen 
miles in length and a hundred and fifty feet in width. To 
complete the internal arrangements, four other streets, with 
houses only on one side, the ramparts being on the other, 

were added. By this pre¬ 
cise regularity of arrange¬ 
ment, Babylon was divided 
into six hundred and seventy- 
six squares, each square be¬ 
ing two miles and a quarter 
in circuit. The houses were 
very lofty, being carried to 
the height of three or four 
stories ; but the width of the 
streets, and the open courts 
and gardens within hollow 
squares, must have produced 
a perfect ventilation and a 
healthy openness that form 
a strange contrast to the 
cramped, irregular and un¬ 
healthy streets in some of the 
most refined and civilized of 
modern cities. It is proba¬ 
ble that the streets nearest 
the walls were devoted to 
mercantile affairs and to the 
preservation of stores, while those nearer the center formed the 
residences of the higher classes^ The Euphrates intersected 
the city from north to south, and over it was erected a mag¬ 
nificent bridge, about a furlong in length, and sixty feet in 
width. At its extremities were two palaces—the old palace on 
the eastern side of the river, the new one on the western. 










DANIEL. 


387 


Near the old palace stood the temple of Belus. Of this He¬ 
rodotus, the father of history, says: 

“ In the middle of the city is the temple of the god Belus, 
with brazen gates, remaining up to my own time, quadran¬ 
gular, and occupying a space of two furlongs. In the middle of 
the sacred precinct stands a solid tower, a furlong both in 
depth and width; upon this tower another is erected, and 
another upon this, to the number of eight towers. An 
ascent to them has been formed on the outside, in a spiral 
staircase running round all the towers. As one reaches about 
half way, resting-places and seats are provided. In the last 
tower is a large shrine, and within the temple lies a large bed 
well appointed, and near it stands a golden table ”; and the 
priests “ assert what I can by no means believe, namely, that 
the god himself frequents the temple, and reposes on the 
couch. And there is another shrine lower down, where there 
stands a large golden image of the god, and near it is placed 
a large golden table, and the pedestal and the throne are of 
gold ; and as the Chaldeans assert, those things were made 
for eight hundred talents of gold, and a thousand talents 
worth of frankincense are offered every year when they cele¬ 
brate the festival of the god.” 

The whole of the temple was enriched with the offerings 
of private devotees, consisting of massive golden censers, stat¬ 
ues, cups and sacred vessels, of a weight and value scarcely 
to be imagined. 

Nebuchadnezzar bestowed immense pains on the embellish¬ 
ment of Babylon, and, among other great works, constructed 
its famous hanging gardens, and presented them to his wife, 
Amytis, who, being a native of Media, which was a hilly 
country, was anxious to see something in Babylon resembling 
the mountains of her native land. These gardens contained 
a square, of more than four hundred feet on each side, and 
were carried up, in the manner of several large terraces, one 
above the other, till the height equaled that of the walls of 


388 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


the city. The ascent from terrace to terrace was by stairs 
ten feet wide. The whole pile was sustained by vast arches, 
raised on other arches, one above another, and strengthened 
by a wall surrounding it on every side, twenty feet in thick¬ 
ness. On the top of the arches were first laid large flat stones. 
Over these was a quantity of weeds, mixed with bitumen, on 
which were rows of bricks closely cemented together. The 
whole was covered with thick sheets of lead, on which lay 
the soil of the garden. The earth was so deep that large 
trees could take root and grow in it. The trees which .the 
king planted were of various kinds, generally such as were not 
native in Babylon, but which grew in Media. At a distance 
this whole artificial mound appeared like an immense hill 
covered with forest trees. From its summit a fine view was 
afforded of the city and the country around for many miles,. 
The different terraces contained fountains, seats and banquet- 
ing-rooms; and the whole extent was adorned with flowers 
and foliage. 

To this wonderful city, in the third year of Jehoiakim, 
eighteen or nineteen years before the destruction of Jerusa¬ 
lem, were brought Daniel and his companions, to be instructed 
in the learning and the tongue of the Chaldeans. The Magi, 
or learned men, of Babylon were a numerous and important 
class. The movements of the heavenly bodies, the qualities 
of metals and minerals, prognostications of the future, explan¬ 
ations of dreams, and similar subjects, constituted their studies, 
and as they claimed great skill in foretelling the future, they 
acquired a position of extraordinary influence. 

Flung in among these cunning priests, Daniel and his com¬ 
panions were exposed to the greatest danger. They were 
mercifully enabled from the very first to make a decided and 
prudent stand against Babylonian luxury, and afterward a 
still more noble stand against Babylonian idolatry. Their 
spirit was a great contrast to that yielding, accommodating 
temper in religious matters, which had been a prominent 


DANIEL. 


389 


weakness of a large proportion of the Jews. Their names 
formed worthy additions to the illustrious roll of faithful men, 
headed by Abraham, who braved all terrors rather than prove 
unfaithful to their God, and who form the brightest and noblest 
galaxy that ever threw luster on any nation. 

Being furnished, as was customary, with rich viands from 
the royal table, of which they could not partake without vio¬ 
lating the ceremonial law which God had imposed upon His 
people, Daniel obtained permission for himself and his com¬ 
panions to use coarser fare, and thenceforth voluntarily sub¬ 
mitted to a course of life rigidly abstemious, that he might 
not disobey the commands of heaven. In this the blessing of 
God was upon him, and when his physical and mental train¬ 
ing was complete, and he, with his three friends, was brought 
into the presence of the king, the monarch was exceedingly 
pleased not only with their personal appearance, but with 
their rare learning and wisdom, for he found that they knew 
“ ten times ” more than all the magicians and astrologers in 
his whole realm. 

Nebuchadnezzar having been visited with one of those 
visions of the night by means of which the omniscient God, 
in times previous to the Gospel revelation, was wont to evince 
His providence and supreme administration, sought relief 
from the agitation into which the prophetic dream had 
plunged his proud spirit, by demanding with threats, from 
his wise men, not only an interpretation of the dream, but a 
relation of its circumstances, which, in the disturbed state of 
his mind, had escaped from his memory. In the denuncia¬ 
tions of death which the infuriated monarch issued against 
those from whom he hoped to extort this superhuman infor¬ 
mation, Daniel with his companions was involved ; and hav¬ 
ing obtained by his prayers a revelation of the mysterious 
vision, from Him who alone could give it, he was enabled to 
recall the particulars of it to Nebuchadnezzar’s recollection, 
and to furnish an interpretation of the dream, accompanying 


i 


390 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


his disclosures with a faithful exhortation to the monarch to 
acknowledge the supremacy of that God to whose inspiration 
alone the prophet ascribed his knowledge of the mystery. 

It seems that the king had beheld in his sleep a great 
image, composed of different metals. And suddenly a stone 
broke the image into shivers, and then swelled out into the 
size of a vast mountain. Daniel told 
him that this image was meant to 
represent the kingdom over which 
he was then ruling; that this king¬ 
dom would by degrees give way, and 
at length come to an end ; &nd that 
the little stone represented God’s 
kingdom, which was in the end to 
subdue all the others. 

Nebuchadnezzar felt persuaded 
that Daniel’s explanation was the right 
one ; and consequently he made him 
at once a great man, loaded him with 
gifts, and gave him a high office in 
his kingdom. Thus the captive 
youth became one of the chief rulers 
in Babylon. 

On a subsequent occasion, Daniel 
was called upon to declare to the 
same sovereign the decree of the 
Most High which had gone forth 
against him, that, for his arrogant 
usurpation of the Divine, prerogative, and refusal to acknowl¬ 
edge the one living and true God, he should for a time be 
deprived of reason, and degraded from the height of his grand- * 
eur to the level of the brute creation. In this trying juncture 
he hesitated not to hazard his honors and his life, by faith¬ 
fully disclosing the counsels of heaven, and recommending 
to the proud monarch humiliation and repentance. “ Thou 
shalt be driven from the society of men, and thy dwelling 











DANIEL. 


391 


shall be with the beasts of the field, till seven times shall 
pass over thee, and thou know that the Most High ruleth 
in the kingdoms of men, and giveth them to whom He will. 
Wherefore, 0 king, let my counsel be acceptable to thee, and 
break off thy sins by righteousness, and thine iniquities by 
showing mercy to the poor, if it may be a lengthening of thy 
. tranquillity.” 

The king does not seem to have heeded this call to repent¬ 
ance, for at the end of a year we find him haughtily pacing 
his palace, boasting of his greatness and power : “ Is not this 
great Babylon, that I have built for the house of the king¬ 
dom by the might of my power, and for the honor of my 
majesty ? ” While the word was in his mouth, a voice fell 
from heaven, saying, The kingdom is departed from thee, and 
they shall drive thee from men, and they shall make thee to 
eat grass as oxen. And the same hour the thing was ful¬ 
filled upon Nebuchadnezzar, and his body was wet with the 
dews of heaven, till his hairs were grown as eagle’s feathers, 
and his nails like bird’s claws. His acknowledgment of the 
Most High, after his recovery, is cordial, and seems to indi¬ 
cate a chastened heart. The events of his reign must have 
had a great effect in exalting the true God in the estimation 
of Eastern nations, and perhaps drawing attention to the 
sacred books of the Jews. 

About this time there comes on the field of history a prince 
of singular character and great ability—Cyrus, founder of the 
Medo-Persian empire, who had been designated long before 
by the Prophet Isaiah, as the appointed deliverer of the Jews. 
For a long time, Babylon maintained its independence against 
him. Surrounded by walls of such enormous height and 
strength, and having provisions for twenty years, even Cyrus 
would have had to leave it in despair, but for a stratagem. 
A great festival was going on within the city, during which 
Belshazzar, the king, was guilty of a horrid act of profanity,^ 
using the sacred vessels of Jerusalem for convivial purposes, 


392 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


and extolling meanwhile the gods of gold, silver, brass, iron, 
wood and stone, which he and his people worshiped. A 
mysterious hand was seen on the palace wall, tracing letters 
which none of the Babylonian wise men could read, till the 
queen-mother, Nitocris, bethinking her of Daniel, caused him 
to be sent for. He at once deciphered the letters, and boldly 
announced as their import, that the kingdom was taken from 
Belshazzar and given to the Medes and Persians. Meanwhile 
Cyrus, by drawing off the waters of the Euphrates, obtained 
an entrance for his soldiers, who, advancing to the palace, 
killed Belshazzar, and were soon in undisputed possession of 
the city. Like the Troy of the poets, it was taken when 
drunkenness and riot had plunged its chieftains into that sleep 
from which they awoke only to the bitterness of death. Na¬ 
ture turned from her course, and the river which had watered 
the gardens of glory, retired from its proper limits, and opened 
a dry pathway for the destroyer. 

The change of dynasty produced no alteration in Daniel’s 
condition. The estimation in which he was held, and the 
confidence reposed in him by the new administration, appear 
to have been unlimited. “ It pleased Darius to set over the 
empire a hundred and twenty princes, and over these three 
presidents, of whom Daniel was the first.” Darius was the 
king of the Medes, the uncle, and afterward the father-in-law 
of Cyrus. When Cyrus was absent on a warlike expedition, 
Daniel’s enemies accused him to Darius. His exalted posi¬ 
tion drew upon Tiim the envy of many. A general conspir¬ 
acy was formed against him. There was a natural jealousy 
of him as a foreigner. His enemies watched him narrowly, 
and tried hard to find some flaw in his conduct. But he used 
his authority wisely, desiring in his exalted station to do all to 
the glory of God. And his eminent talents and endowments, 
coupled with his unimpeachable probity, rendered the suc¬ 
cess of any charges to be brought against him for incapacity 
or malversation in office altogether hopeless ; “ forasmuch as 


DANIEL. 


393 


he was faithful, neither was any error or fault to be found in 
him.” “ Therefore,” said this band of conspirators, “we shall 
not find any occasion against this Daniel, except on the score 
of the law of his God.” Daniel’s devotion was well known. 
At each of the three hours of prayer prescribed by the insti¬ 
tutions of his country, he was wont to offer up supplication 
with his face directed toward the holy Temple of Jerusalem, 
as suggested in the solemn prayer of Solomon at the dedica¬ 
tion of that sacred edifice. These wicked men persuaded 
Darius to make a decree that no prayer should be offered to 
any one but the king for a certain number of days. This 
proposition was not more shockingly impious than many other 
gross flatteries offered in heathen times to princes of countries 
more enlightened than Assyria, and it might appear to Da¬ 
rius to be aimed against the Babylonian idolatries, which the 
Medes and Persians viewed with contempt and detestation, 
Daniel knew well enough that this insidious decree would 
bring him into trouble. But his duty was clear. The laws 
of his religion he would still obey. Three times in the day 
he knelt at his devotions, with his face turned toward his be¬ 
loved Jerusalem, putting up earnest supplications to Him 
whom he knew to be his heavenly Father and Friend. 

This was what his enemies wanted. Here was a charge 
to bring against him. He had dared to act contrary to the 
king’s decree. Darius received the accusation very unwill¬ 
ingly, and would gladly have spared his valued servant; but 
the rigid' character of the laws of the Medes and Persians for¬ 
bade the interposition of the monarch in behalf of the accused. 
He sought, indeed, to evade the consequences of his rash de¬ 
cree, and “ labored till the going down of the sun to deliver 
Daniel,” but without effect. 

The punishment which had been named was, that the of¬ 
fender should be cast into a den of fierce lions. And conse¬ 
quently, Daniel is seized and thrust into the den. And there 
he is condemned to pass the night—a poor, defenseless man 


394 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


in the midst of animals which thirsted for his blood. But 
there was One there to protect him, an unseen One who was 
able to shut the lions’ mouths, and keep His servant as 
safely as if he had been in his own chamber. “ So Daniel 
was taken up out of the den, and no manner of hurt was 
found upon him, because he believed in his God.” 



What a night must that have been, which Daniel passed 
in the den! Was he alone? No; for God was with him. 
Did he fear ? No, his mind was calm and prayerful. He be¬ 
lieved in God, and all was well. He passed a far happier 
night amidst the lions than did Darius in the palace. When 
the king, after a sleepless night, found him safe, he ordered him 





DANIEL. 


395 


to be brought forth at once, and his enemies to be put in his 
place. 

Upon the death of Darius, Cyrus became the sole ruler 
of the magnificent Medo-Persian empire. It is hardly a 
stretch of fancy to imagine an interview between him and 
the venerable Hebrew prophet, who had risen so high in the 
councils of the Babylonian kings. We may easily suppose 
Daniel, taking from his girdle a parchment-roll two hundred 
years old, the book of the Prophet Isaiah, and reading to the 
king the first few verses of the forty-fifth chapter. Great must 
have been the astonishment of Cyrus to find himself men¬ 
tioned by name in that old Hebrew document; described as 
breaking in pieces “the brazen gates” of Babylon ; as receiv¬ 
ing from God “ the hidden riches ” of Croesus and other wealthy 
kings; and as God’s appointed instrument for setting His peo¬ 
ple free. Great, too, must have been the impression made 
on him by the magnificent description of the majestic power 
of the great God whom Cyrus and the Persians believed to 
be little more than co-ordinate with the principle of evil, “ I 
form the light and create darkness; I make peace and create 
evil; I the Lord do all these things.” Yielding to the im¬ 
pression of such truths, Cyrus, among his very first acts, is¬ 
sued a decree, permitting the Jews to return and build the 
Temple of the Lord at Jerusalem. This permission was given 
with the utmost cordiality. Ho Hebrew disposed to take 
part in the work could now be detained against his will in 
Babylon or the neighborhood; and though in point of fact 
many did not return now, and many never returned at all, 
yet as a state of compulsory bondage the Babylonian captiv¬ 
ity was at an end. 

Daniel did not accompany the emigrants, but remained at 
his post in Persia. It was partly before and partly after this 
period that he had those remarkable visions which form so 
large a part of the book that is called by his name. And these, 
taken with the dreams of others which he interpreted, entitle 


396 


rROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


him “ Prophet of Dreams,” monarch of the dim dynasty of 
night. “Sleep on,” said an unhappy literary man, over the 
dust of Bunyan, in Bunhillfields, “ thou prince of dreamers ” 
But in this realm, Joseph was the first and Daniel the second 
monarch. 

“ A dream is from God,” is one of the earliest, shortest and 
truest of sentences. Strange, stuttering, imperfect, but real 
and direct messengers from the Infinite, are our dreams. Like 
worn-out couriers, dying with their news at the threshold 
of the door, dreams seem sometimes unable to utter their tid¬ 
ings. Or is it that we do not yet understand their language, 
and must lay aside missives which contain our duty and our 
destiny ? 

In dreams space is annihilated, the dead live, we commune 
with the absent, recall the past though perished, see the pres¬ 
ent though distant, and descry many a clear spot through the 
mist of the future. The dreaming world, as the region where 
all elements are mingled, all contradictions reconciled, all 
tenses lost in one—supplies us with the only faint conception 
we have of that awful now, in which the Eternal dwells. In 
every dream, does not the soul, like a stream, sink transiently 
into the deep abyss, whence it came, and where it is to merge, 
at death, and are not the confusion and incoherence of dreams 
just the hubbub, the foam and the struggle, with which the 
river weds the ocean ? 

But all dreams which ever waved rapture over the brow 
of youthful genius, or distilled poison on the drugged and 
desperate repose of unhappy bard or philosopher, must yield 
in magnitude, grandeur and comprehensiveness, to the dreams 
which Daniel expounded or saw. They are all colossal in 
size, as befitted dreams dreamed in the palaces of Babylon. 
No ears of corn, blasted or flourishing—no kine, fat or lean 
—appear to Daniel; but here stands up a great image, with 
head of gold, breast of silver, belly of brass, and feet of iron 


DANIEL. 


397 


mingled with clay; and there waves a tree, tall as heaven, and 
broad as earth. Here again, as the four winds are striving 
upon the ocean, four monstrous forms emerge, and there ap¬ 
pears the throne of the Ancient of Days, with all its appurte¬ 
nances of majesty and insignia of justice. Empires, religions, 
the history of time, the opening gateways of eternity, are all 
spanned by these dreams. No wonder that monarchs sprang 
up trembling and troubled from their sight, and that one of 
them changed the countenance of the prophet, as years of 
anguish could not have done. 

They are recounted in language grave, solemn, serene. The 
poetry of Daniel lies rather in the objects presented than in 
the figures or the language of the description. The vehem¬ 
ence, pathos, or fury, which, in various measures, character¬ 
ized his brethren, are not found in him. A calm, uniform 
dignity distinguishes all his actions and words. It forsakes 
not his brow even while he is astonished for one hour in the 
presence of the monarch. It enters with him as he enters, 
awful in holiness, into the hall of Belshazzar’s feast. It sits 
over him in the lions’ den, like a canopy of state; and it 
sustains his style to its usual, even, exalted pitch in describing 
the session of the Ancient of Days, and the fiery stream 
which goes forth before Him. 

The great grandeur of Daniel’s prophecy arises from its 
frequent glimpses of the coming One. Over all the wondrous 
emblems and colossal confusions of his visions, there is seen 
slowly yet triumphantly rising, one head and form, the form 
of a man, the head of a prince. It is the Messiah painting 
Himself upon the sky of the future. The vision at once 
interpenetrates and overtops all the rest. Gathering from 
former prophets the separate rays of His glory which they 
saw, Daniel forms them into one kingly shape; to Him as¬ 
signs the task of defending the holy people, at His feet lays 
the keys of universal empire, and leaves Him judging the 
quick and the dead. To Daniel it was permitted to give full 


398 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


birth to that great thought which has ever since been the 
life of the Church and the hope of the world. 

And now this dignified counselor, this fearless saint, this 
ardent patriot, this blameless man, this magnificent dreamer, 
must pass away from our page. Very different was he from 
the cluster of prophets among whom he is found. They, for 
the most part, were poor, solitary, and wandering men, 
despised and rejected; he was the favorite of monarchs. 
Their predictions exposed them to danger and shame; his 
dreams drew him aloft to riches and honor. As prophets, 
they were admitted now and then among princes; but he 
became a prince through his power of prophecy. Yet we 
feel justified in putting the well-conditioned and gold-hung 
Daniel beside the gaunt, hungry, and wild-eyed sons of the 
prophets we have just been picturing. Prophetic souls are 
kindred, whether they look out from beneath the brows of 
kings or beggars. 

Certainly Daniel was one of the most admirable of Scrip¬ 
ture worthies. His character was formed in youth; it was 
retained in defiance of the seductions and the terrors of a 
court. His genius, furnished with every advantage of educa¬ 
tion, and every variety of Pagan learning, was consecrated to 
God; the window of his prophecy, like that of his chamber, 
stood open toward Jerusalem. Over his death hangs a cloud 
of darkness. The deaths of patriarchs and kings are re¬ 
corded, but those who left us prophetic writings drop sud¬ 
denly from their airy summits, and we see and hear of them 
no more. Was Isaiah sawn asunder? Did Jeremiah perish a 
martyr in Egypt ? Did Ezekiel die in youth, crucified on the 
fiery cross of his own temperament? We cannot certainly 
tell. And how came Daniel, the prince of dreamers, to his 
end ? Did he, old and full of honors, die amid some happy 
Sabbath dream ? Or did he depart, turning his eyes through 
his open window toward that beloved city where the ham¬ 
mers of reconstruction were already resounding? We cannot 


DANIEL. 


399 


tell. No matter; tlie messages are with ns, while the men 
are away; the messages are certain, while the fate of the 
men is wrapt in doubt. This is in fine keeping with the 
severe reserve of Scripture, and with the character of its 
writers. Munificent and modest benefactors of mankind, 
they knocked at the door of the human family at night, 
threw in inestimable wealth, fled, and the sound of their feet, 
dying away in the distance, is all the tidings they have given 
of themselves. 


THE VISION OF BELSHAZZAR. 

“ The king was on his throne, 

The satraps throng’d the hall; 

A thousand bright lamps shone 
O’er that high festival. 

A thousand cups of gold, 

In Judah deem’d divine— 
Jehovah’s vessels hold 

The godless heathen’s wine! 


“ In that same hour and hall, 

The fingers of a hand 
Came forth against the wall, 

And wrote as if on sand: 

The fingers of a man;— 

A solitary hand 
Along the letters ran 

And traced them like a wand. 


u 




The monarch saw, and shook, 
And bade no more rejoice; 
All bloodless wax’d his look, 
And tremulous his voice: 
Let the men of lore appear, 
The wisest of the earth, 

And expound the words of fear 
Which mar our royal mirth.’ 


400 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


“ Chaldea’s seers are good, 

But here they have no skill; 
And the unknown letters stood 
Untold and awful still. 

And Babel’s men of age 
Are wise and deep in lore, 
But now they were not sage: 
They saw, but knew no more. 

“ A captive in the land, 

A stranger and a youth, 

He heard the king’s command, 
He saw that writing’s truth. 
The lamps around were bright, 
The prophecy in view; 

He read it on that night, 

The morrow proved it true. 

“ Belshazzar’s grave is made, 

His kingdom pass’d away, 
He, in the balance weigh’d, 

Is light and worthless clay, 
The shroud his robe of state, 
His canopy the stone; 

The Mede is at his gate, 

The Persian on his throne I” 


Hebrew Melodies. 










JONAH CAST FORTH BY THE FISH. 






























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































X. 

JONAH. 


'Che Minor Prophets—Jonah the Son of the Widow of Zarephath— 
Nineveh—Its vast Remains—Signs of Cruelty—Jonah the First Mis¬ 
sionary to the Heathen—The Flight of the Prophet—Asleep in the 
Vessel—The Storm at Sea—Jonah is Aroused and Confesses his Guilt 
—Is Cast into the Sea—A Great Fish Receives Him—His Meditations 
in the Depths—Tt^own out on the Shore—Enters Nineveh—His 
Piercing Cry—The Doomed City Repents and is Spared—The Prophet 
is Angry—The Withered Gourd—Lessons of the Book—God not Bound 
to Destroy—The Power of Units—Joys that will not Wither—Protest 
against Narrowness and Sectarianism. 

The prophets following Daniel in our arrangement of the 
Canon, are commonly called the minor prophets. They in¬ 
herit this name, because some of them flourished at a later 
date than those called the greater prophets, because their 
prophecies are shorter, because their genius is commonly held 
to be of a humbler order, and because while their genuine¬ 
ness and inspiration are conceded, they have never bulked so 
largely in the eye of the Church. First in order of time is 
Jonah. He is supposed to have been the child of the widow 
of Zarephath, the boy who attended Elijah to the wilderness, 
the youth who anointed Jehu. 

The Book of Jonah stands out of the Old Testament history 
of wars and conquests with a truthfulness to human nature 
and a loftiness of religious sentiment that more than vindi¬ 
cate its place in the Sacred Canon. It has been well said, 
if it were a foolish legend, why have so many self-conceited 
fools rejected it; and why has it been believed by Milton, 
by Newton, and by Him who spake as never man spake ? 
The narrative is a part of those things which were written 



404 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


aforetime for our instruction. It contains lessons to which 
we do well to take heed. 

The prophet was sent on a mission to Nineveh, the most 
magnificent of all the capitals of the ancient world—“ great 
even unto God.” It included parks, gardens, fields, people 
and cattle within its vast circumference—town and country 
blending in one, and ample groves and meadows mingling 
with the streets and palaces. Modern discoveries enable us 
to form a vivid picture of Nineveh, as it must have appeared 
when Jonah entered it. Large mounds of earth, that lay un¬ 
disturbed for centuries upon the banks of the Tigris, have 
been explored; and within these mounds magnificent sculp¬ 
tures, remains of palaces, and other memorials have been 
found, that show the grandeur of the ancient city. Jonah de¬ 
scribes it as so large that it took three days to walk around 
it. Mr. Layard confirms this statement, the circumference of 
the space where the mounds of ruins are found being 60 miles. 
It was surrounded by a wall 100 feet in height, on which 
were 1500 towers; and the top of the wall was broad enough 
for three chariots to be driven abreast. 

APPEARANCE OF NINEVEH. 

The passenger on the street might behold the sheep in the 
meadow and the plow in the furrow; while the breeze, 
loaded with fragrant odors, might also bear upon it the yell 
of the distant chase. Here the haughty noble might be seen 
gazing proudly from his Assyrian charger; there the bold 
warrior, in his blue uniform, looking defiance on the vulgar 
crowd. The rare structure and gorgeous splendor of the 
palaces and public buildings could not fail to make a deep 
impression on the stranger. Every entrance seemed guarded 
hy gigantic animals beautifully carved from solid stone; bulls 
and lions with the wings of the eagle and the face of a man, 
or figures of a man with the face of an eagle, sentineled every 
approach. The interior of the palaces and public buildings 


JONAH. 


405 


was fitted up with extraordinary splendor, and it was impossi¬ 
ble not to be struck with the very remarkable and skillful com¬ 
binations of color that were apparent in their decoration. In 
the palaces, chambers might be seen lined with sculptured 
slabs, containing historical pictures, with inscriptions, written 
in a strange, wedge-shaped, or arrow-headed character. These 
pictures represented the history of the empire, especially its 
warlike achievements. One common feature in them could 
not be marked without a shudder,—the sad evidence of cruelty 
which they afforded. Here 
might be seen a picture 
exhibiting a row of cap¬ 
tives, each impaled on an 
iron spike; another, rep¬ 
resenting a group under¬ 
going the process of being 
flayed alive; while in,a 
third, a row, with halters 
around their necks or 
hooks in their tongues, 
were dragged about to 
feast the eyes of their 
conquerors, preparatory 
to their being put to 
a more terrible death. The wickedness of the place was in 
proportion to its wealth and magnificence. In some respects 
it was hardly less guilty than Sodom or Gomorrah. 

THE FIRST MISSIONARY TO THE HEATHEN. 



ASSYRIAN KING PUTTING OUT EYKS OFCAPTiVJis. 


To this heathen city the prophet was sent to exercise his holy 
office. It is the first recognition of the distinct claims of the 
heathen world on the justice and mercy of God. For ages, 
to keep the true religion pure, it had been necessary to con¬ 
fine it to the children of Jacob, and to segregate them as 
much as possible from other nations. The ceremonial law, 











406 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


in its burdensome ritual and innumerable observances, served 
as a middle wall of partition, excluding the Gentiles from 
religious privileges. Proselytes, indeed, were welcome. Tbe 
law of Moses laid down directions for their admission into 
the commonwealth of Israel. But this had a bearing merely 
on individuals. The Gentiles, as a whole, were cast out be¬ 
yond the pale of the visible Church, and given over to the 
reign of spiritual death. But now, in the onward progress 
of the great redemption, a prophet is sent out from the 
chosen people, to the most renowned city of heathendom then 
on the face of the earth. He is sent, that by the effects of 
his preaching, an illustration may be given, on the grandest 
scale, of the boundless power of human repentance, and that 
already, in advance, the great Gospel doctrine may be vindi¬ 
cated, that God is “ mighty to save,” “ able to save to the 
uttermost,” and willing to save poor, perishing, penitent din¬ 
ners of every creed and nation. Suddenly, when the pall of 
thick darkness and the shadow of death hangs over all 
nations, save the little central spot of Immanuel’s Land; when 
Jehovah might appear to have resigned all government of the 
world, save in that one corner where His worship was estab¬ 
lished by special covenant, and yet was almost overthrown; 
when the Most High is well nigh come to be regarded as a 
local and limited deity, having no control and taking no 
oversight of other lands; when Israel, perverting His grace, 
has come self-righteously to think they can reckon by right on 
His favor, and tamper with impunity with His law—a herald 
crosses the sacred precincts where the spirit and word of 
prophecy have hitherto dwelt, and goes out into the thick 
darkness, carrying with him the sound of Jehovah’s voice, 
and the torch of Jehovah’s word; and that his mission may 
not fail to compel the attention of all succeeding ages, it is 
adorned with the most marvelous and romantic incident, and 
with the most striking, if not perplexing, developments of 
human character. 


JONAH. 


40T 


THE FLIGHT OF THE PROPHET. 

No wonder that Jonah, charged with this solitary, unpar¬ 
alleled and unique commission, should hesitate and flee. We 
see him hasting down from the hills of Galilee to the one 
Israelite port of Joppa. For the first time in the sacred his¬ 
tory, we embark on the stormy waters of the Mediterranean, 
in a ship bound for the distant port of Tarshish on the coast 
of Spain. The prophet sinks into the deep sleep of the 
wearied traveler as soon as he gets on board after his hurried 
journey. This is no proof of insensibility. Sleep often says 
to the eyes of the happy, “ Burn on, through midnight, like 
the stars; ye have no need of me;” but to those of the 
wretched, “ I will fold you in my mantle and bury you in 
sweet oblivion till the morning come.” In certain states of 
desolation, there lies a power which draws down irresistibly 
the coverlet of sleep. Not in the fullness of security, but of 
insecurity; not in perfect peace, but in desperate recklessness, 
Jonah was overpowered with slumber. He slept, but the sea 
did not. The sight of a slumbering sinner can awake the 
universe. But the rocking ship, the roaring sea, and the 
clamorous sailors, only confirmed the slumber of the prophet. 
Roused he is at last by the ship-master, who is more terrified 
at his unnatural sleep, than at the sea’s wild vigil, “ What 
meanest thou, O sleeper! Arise and call upon thy God I” 

How different the sleep of Jonah from the sleep of Jesus 
in the storm on Galilee! The one is the sleep of desperation, 
the other of peace; the one that of the criminal, the other of 
the child; the one that of God’s fugitive, the other of His fa¬ 
vorite ; the darkness over the head of the one is the frown 
of anger, but over the other only the mask upon the fore¬ 
head of love! But each is the center of his several ship, 
each in different ways the cause of the storm; in each lies 
the help of the vessel; each must awake, the criminal 
to lighten the ship of his burden, the Son to rebuke the 
winds and the waves and produce immediately a great calm. 


408 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


The moment Jonah entered the ship, instinct probably told 
the sailors that all was not right with him, and now they at¬ 
tacked him with their “ brief accumulated inquiries.” “Why 
hath this happened to us ? What doest thou ? Whence art 
thou ? What is thy country ? Of what people art thou ? ” 
As all the truth concerning him was developed, and it became 
evident that the storm would not cease while he was on board 
the vessel, he boldly faces the punishment of his transgres¬ 
sion. “ Take me up, and cast me forth into the sea.” But 
the good seamen, heathen as they are, struggle against the 
dreadful necessity which Jonah puts before them. They row 
with a force which seems to dig up the waves under their ef¬ 
forts. But higher and higher, higher and higher, the sea 
surges against them, like a living creature gaping for its prey. 

At last the noble mariners, with a prayer to God. yield up 
the victim whom all those waves demand, and at once their 
fury abates. A sullen growl of satisfaction first, then a loud 
signal for retreat, and lastly a whisper commanding univer¬ 
sal silence, seems to testify that the sacrifice is accepted and the 
ship is safe. This is the first deliverance of the narrative, and 
it is the blessing of God upon the honest hearts and active 
hands of “ those that go down to the sea in ships, and do 
their business in great waters.” 

But there is deliverance for Jonah too. In saving the sailors, 
God does not intend to destroy him , and he puts him in tem¬ 
porary peril only that he may become the instrument of sav¬ 
ing a vast multitude that in the distant heathen city are wait¬ 
ing for his message. Emerging from the lowermost deep, and 
attracted, it might be, by the wondrous silence which had fol¬ 
lowed the wondrous storm, appeared a “ great fish,” one of 3 
the huge monsters which are described in the Psalms as sport¬ 
ing in the strange sea, and received the prophet into its capa¬ 
cious maw, and descended with him to the bottom of the sea. 
There, with God’s vast ocean pressing against the sides of his 
living dungeon, his prayers broken by the lashing of the mon- 


JONAH. 


409 


ster’s tail, and the grinding of his teeth, he thinks of the far-off 
Temple, the privileges of which he had never so much valued 
as now when, seen from “ the belly of hell,” it seems the very 
gate of heaven ! The river of the ocean whirls him round 
t in its vast eddies; the masses of sea-weed enwrap him as in 
grave-clothes; the rocky roots of the mountains as they de¬ 
scend into the sea appear above him, as if closing the gates 
of earth against his return. At length he is thrown out on 
the shore nearest Assyria. His hymn of thanksgiving suc¬ 
ceeds. The mighty fish is lost sight of, as but the transitory 
instrument of deliverance. That on which the prophet lays 
stress is not the mode of escape, but the escape itself. 

NINEVEH IS WARNED AND REPENTS. 

And now the commission of Jonah is renewed, and this 
time accepted and executed. Alone, and unnoticed in a 
crowd composed of the confluence of all nations, he enters 
the capital of the East. After, perhaps, a short silence, the 
silence of wonder at the sight of that living ocean, he raises 
his voice. At first, feeble, tremulous, scarcely heard, it is 
swollen by every tributary street, as he passes, into a loud 
imperious sound, which all the cries of Nineveh are unable 
to drown. u Yet forty days, and Nineveh shall be overthrown.” 
It is but a simple sentence, uttered again and again in terms 
unvaried; its tones a deep monotony, as if learned from a 
dying wave. Its effect is aided, too, by the appearance of 
the prophet. Haggard by watchfulness, soiled by travel, 
“ bearded like the pard,” with a wild, hungry fire in his eye, 
he seems hardly like a being of this earth. Nineveh is 
smitten to the heart. Ere he has pierced one-third of it, it 
capitulates to the message, the voice, the figure of this 
stranger, to the great power of the truth, the God behind 
him, and the conscience within echoing and enforcing his 
utterances. The piercing cry reaches the king on his throne. 
Remorse for the wrong and robbery and violence of genera- 


PKOPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 



ASSYRIAN MODE OF TAKING A CITY. 





























































JONAH. 


411 


tions is awakened. A fast is- proclaimed, and all, from the 
greatest to the least, put on sackcloth. The dumb animals 
are included in the universal mourning. The great and proud 
city is suddenly smitten into the most profound humiliation. 
But still on, amid these trembling, fasting multitudes, slowly 
and steadfastly moves the solitary man, looking neither to the 
right hand nor to the left, but uttering, in the same unmiti¬ 
gated tone, the same incessant cry, “Yet forty days, and 
Nineveh shall be overthrown.” 

Upon the penitence of the vast population of the great As¬ 
syrian capital, the Divine decree of destruction is revoked. 
Expecting the city to be destroyed by earthquake or flame 
from heaven, the prophet had gone out of it, and erected a 
booth or shelter to screen his head from the sun; and he is 
there when he hears of the respite granted to the city. A 
fiercer fire than the sun’s is now kindled in his heart; and 
mingling with the heat which the booth imperfectly alleviates, 
it drives him almost to frenzy. He is angry, and wishes to 
die—to die, because millions are not to die. God prepares a 
large gourd, or species of palm, which springs up like an ex¬ 
halation, and steeps his head with grateful coolness. Jonah 
is glad of it; it somewhat mollifies his indignant feelings, and 
under its shadow he sinks into repose. He awakes; with the 
scorching blast of the early morning the luxuriant shelter with¬ 
ers away; a worm has destroyed it; the arid leaves seem of fire 
as they bend above his head, in the vehement east wind. He 
renews in bitterer accents the cry of yesterday, “It were bet¬ 
ter for me to die than to live.” Then, in his despairing faint¬ 
ness, he receives the revelation of the Divine character, which 
is to him as that of the burning bush to Moses, or of the vis¬ 
ion on Horeb to Elijah. “Thou hast had pity on the gourd 
for which thou hast not labored, neither madest it grow; 
which came up in a night, and perished in a night: And 
should not I spare Nineveh, that great city, wherein are more 
than six score thousand persons that cannot discern between 


412 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


their right hand and their left hand; and also much cattle ? ” 
The rebuke is thrust home to the narrow selfishness which 
could lament over the withering of his own bower, and yet 
complain that judgment had not been carried out against the 
penitent empire of Nineveh. The lesson is taught that God 
is bound by no strict logical necessity to enforce the destruc¬ 
tion of His creatures; that His mercy is not limited by the nar¬ 
row interpretation which His messengers put upon the mes¬ 
sages which they bear; and that no theory of theirs, as to 
the absoluteness of the decrees which they utter in “ preach¬ 
ing the preaching which He bids them,” can ever change one 
syllable of His recorded name, “ The Lord God, merciful and 
gracious, long-suffering, and slow to anger.” 

Other lessons there are in this narrative. To fly from duty 
is to fly to danger. Deliverance from danger often conducts 
to new and ten-fold perils, and involves ten-fold responsibili¬ 
ties. The voice of an earnest man is a match for millions. 
Let no one say in despair, “ I am but one;” in his unity, as 
in the unity of a sword, lies his might; if his metal be true, his 
singleness is strength; he may be multiplied, but he cannot 
be divided. Minorities of one often do the real work of man¬ 
kind. Jonah stands out a striking proof of the power which 
units, when placed on the right side—that of God and truth— 
exert over the masses of men. As the figure one is to the 
ciphers, few or many, which range after it, so is the hero, 
the saint, the poet, the prophet, and the sage, to their species. 

Jonah would rather have seen the whole city of Nineveh 
swept away, than that his own words should seem to fail. 
How many of us, like him, are afraid of being lowered in the 
eyes of our fellow-men, of having our character for veracity 
impeached, of being esteemed false prophets! When we 
find all going smoothly—none opposing us—when we are 
respected, valued and looked up to by our friends and neigh¬ 
bors, then how easy does it seem to be religious! But let 
us be scorned and despised, then comes the bitter trial. 


JONAH. 


413 


Again, what the gourd was to Jonah, such are oftentimes 
the trifling enjoyments of the world to us. We shelter our¬ 
selves under them. We find our pleasure in them. We 
forget that “ this is not our rest.” Then comes the worm, 
and withers all that we have set our hearts upon, and they 
perish before our eyes. 

Oh, for some better and more solid enjoyment than grows 
on the soil of this world! Oh, for something that will last 
and never fade, something that will satisfy and rejoice the 
heart! May you never fancy that you have found this, dear 
reader, until you have found it in Christ. Here is a “ Tree 
of Life,” which no worm can wither, and which no time can 
decay. Here, in the midst of a desolate world, is “ a refuge 
from the storm, a shadow from the heat.” Under this shel¬ 
ter alone is rest, and peace, and joy for the weary soul. 
With true gratitude and love may each of us address to God 
the words which Jonah used in savage irony, “ I know that 
Thou art a gracious God, and merciful, slow to anger, and of 
great kindness, and repentest Thee of the evil.” 

In that scorching blast that beat upon the head of Jonah, 
when he “ fainted and wished in himself to die,” the sacred 
narrative leaves him. There, to the imagination, still sits 
the stunned and downcast prophet, the great city in sight, 
and shining in the sun, the low of hundreds of cattle in his ears, 
the bitter wind in his eyes and in his hair, disappointment 
and chagrin in his heart, and, hanging over his naked head, 
the fragments of the withered plant. Let us hope that he 
arose from under the gourd, humbled, melted, instructed, and 
resumed the grand functions of his office, to exercise them 
henceforth, not for his “ country” or Church, still less for his 
own reputation, but for the good of poor perishing men,, re¬ 
joicing in every display of God’s mercy, whether to Jew or 
Gentile. His fear evidently was that he would be regarded at 
home as a false prophet, his instructions no longer be heeded, 
his people be confirmed in their rebellion against Jehovah, 


414 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


and thus injury come to both him and them from the salva¬ 
tion of Nineveh. For mark the emphasis with which he 
speaks of his country. a My country /” While there, before 
starting on his perilous mission, he had fears as to how it 
would terminate ; and now his heart is full of heaviness as 
he thinks of its probable bearing on his “country.” He an¬ 
ticipates with perfect agony the laughter and ridicule with 
which he would be received on his return, as having gone on 
a fool’s errand; threatening the greatest city in the world 
with destruction in a specified time, and returning without a 
hair of their heads being injured! He foresees the utter 
weakening of his hands, the destruction of his usefulness, 
among his countrymen. The overthrow of Nineveh by 
Divine judgments, according to his proclamation, would most 
mightily have strengthened him, on his return to his coun¬ 
trymen, enforcing the repentance which he would gladly 
preach to them. He expected to return with a terrible in¬ 
stance to quote of the vindictive justice of God, the heat of 
the Divine displeasure against sin, and he hoped, through his 
preaching, to promote the glory of God at once in the salva¬ 
tion of Israel, and the damnation of the Ninevites. His theo¬ 
ries of “ Divine glory,” his selfishness, his patriotism, his 
bigotry, his sectarianism, all have received damaging blows. 
His theology must be remodeled. Unintentionally he, a 
true son of the Church of his day, and true prophet of the 
Lord, has been the means of bringing vast multitudes of the 
heathen to cast themselves upon the “ uncovenanted,” and 
gloriously free mercy of the Lord. Thus, a century before 
Isaiah, the Evangelical Prophet, Jonah stands out as the 
Apostle of the Gentiles, foretelling their destruction, and ac¬ 
complishing their salvation, the involuntary and unconscious 
instrument of their redemption. Thus the Jewish prophet 
was taught that he was to be the herald of God’s mercy as 
well as of God’s righteousness to all the nations. God’s 
righteousness is shown in making men righteous. If they 


JONAII. 


415 


will submit to be made so, then tbis end is accomplished; 
if they resist, then His vengeance will go forth, not because 
He has forgotten mercy, but because that which is unmerci¬ 
ful and hard-hearted shall not possess the earth which He 
claims for His dominion, nor oppress the creatures whom He 
has made for freedom and happiness. In the interest of love, 
He will destroy the oppressor. 

In the popular traditions of East and West, Jonah’s name 
alone has survived the lesser prophets of the Jewish Church. 
It still lives, not only in many a Mussulman tomb along the 
coasts and hills of Syria, but in the thoughts and devotions 
of Christendom. The marvelous escape from the deep was 
made an emblem of the deliverance of Christ Himself from 
the jaws of death and the grave. The great Christian doc¬ 
trine of the efficacy of repentance received its chief illustra¬ 
tion from the repentance of the Ninevites at the preaching of 
Jonah. There is hardly any figure from the Old Testament 
which the early Christians in the catacombs so often took as 
their consolation in persecution as the deliverance of Jonah 
on the sea-shore, and his naked form stretched out in the 
burning sun beneath the sheltering gourd; and these conspire 
with the story itself in proclaiming the wider lesson of which 
we have spoken. It is the protest of theology against the 
excess of theology—it is the faithful delineation, through all 
its various states, of the dark, sinister, selfish side of even 
great religious teachers. It is the grand biblical appeal to the 
common instincts of humanity, and to the universal love of 
God, against the narrow dogmatism of sectarian polemics. 
There has never been “ a generation” which has not needed 
the majestic revelation of sternness and charity, each bestowed 
where most deserved and where least expected, in the “ sign 
of the Prophet Jonah.” 

To all who would sacrifice the cause of humanity to some 
professional or theological difficulty is the startling truth ad¬ 
dressed, “Doest thou well to be angry?” 


416 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


“God repented of the evil that He had said that He would 
do unto them, and He did it not.” The foredoomed destruction 
of the wicked, the logical consistency of the prophet’s teach¬ 
ing, must go for nothing before the justice and “ the great 
kindness” of God—before the claims even of the unconscious 
heathen children, and the dumb, helpless cattle. Nineveh 
shall be spared, although the prophet has declared that in 
forty days it shall be overthrown. 

























H ABAKKUK. 























































































































































































































































































































































XI. 

HABAKKUK. 


Intellectual Influences of the Bible—Its Effects upon Literature—Bunyan, 
Milton, Addison, Byron, Goethe, Buskin—Franklin at Versailles— 
Sublimity of Habakkuk—The Prophet’s Inward Experience—Cast 
down at the Sufferings of the Bighteous and the Prosperity of the 
Wicked —•“ The Just shall live by Faith.” 

In order to form some conception of the influence of the 
Scriptures upon the minds of the millions who have read 
them, let each reader ask himself the question, “ what have 
I gained from their perusal?” And if he has read them 
with an ordinary degree of intelligence, there must arise be¬ 
fore his memory a “ great multitude which no man can num¬ 
ber,” of lofty conceptions of God—of glimpses into human 
nature—of thoughts “ lying too deep for tears”—of pictures, 
still or stormy, passing from that page to the canvas of imr 
agination to remain forever—of emotions, causing the heart to 
vibrate with a strange joy—and of perpetual whispered im¬ 
pressions, “ this is the highest thought and language I ever 
encountered; I am standing on the pinnacle of literature. ” 
He will remember how often he has returned to this volume, 
and found the charm remaining, and the fire still burning, and 
the fountain of thought and feeling still flowing—how he has 
found every sentence a text, and how many texts resemble 
deep and deepening eyes, “ orb within orb, deeper than sleep 
or death”—how each new perusal has shown firmament above 
firmament, rising in the book as in the night sky, till at last 
he has fallen on his knees, and, forgetting to read, begun to 
wonder and adore—how he has taken up the book again and 
again, and found that it was not only a telescope—to show 



420 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


him things above, but a microscope to show him things be¬ 
low, a mirror to reflect his own heart, and a magic glass to 
bring the future near—until at last he has exclaimed, “ How 
dreadful is this book—none other than the book of God, and 
the gate of heaven!” Multiply this, the experience of one, 
by an unknown number of millions, and you have the answer 
to the question as to the direct intellectual influences of the 
Scriptures upon those who have really read them. 

But what is their influence as we trace it upon the pages 
of modern authors, and reflected from thence upon the world ? 
What have been the effects of the Bible upon literature ? 
We can answer this question only by referring to a few of the 
leading lights of the literary world. 

Spenser’s “Faery Queen,” in its pure moral tone, and its 
gorgeous allegory, betrays the diligent student of the “ Song,” 
the parables, and the prophets. George Herbert’s “Temple” 
proclaims him a poet “ after God’s own heartit is cool, 
chaste and still, as the Temple of Jerusalem on the evening 
after the buyers and sellers were expelled. Milton seems 
almost a belated bard of the Bible. He cried aloud to the 
Eternal Spirit to send the seraphim to touch his lips with a 
live coal from the altar. His writings have a sifted purity 
we seldom find out of Scripture, and quotations from the 
Bible fall sweetly into their places along his page, and find at 
once suitable society. Wharton, in an ingenious paper in the 
“ Adventurer,” ascribes Milton’s superiority over the ancients 
to the use he has made of Scripture. 

Bunyan seems to have read scarcely a book but the Bible. 
When he quotes it, it is by chapters at a time, and he has 
nearly quoted it all. He seems to think and dream, as well 
as speak and write, in Scripture language. Scripture imagery 
serves him for fancy, and Scripture words for eloquence. He 
alone could have counterfeited a continuation of the Bible! 
Macaulay, sacrificing the truth on the sharp prong of an an¬ 
tithesis, says there were, in their age, but two great creative 


HABAKKUK. 


421 


minds in England, the one was the author of Paradise Lost, 
and the other of Pilgrim’s Progress. It would be more cor¬ 
rect to say that both seemed incarnations of the spirit of 
Hebrew poetry, and that the tinker had more of it than the 
elaborate poet. The age of Amos seemed to have rolled round, 
when from among the lowest of the people sprang up sud¬ 
denly this brave man, like the figure in his own Pilgrim, and 
cried out to the Recorder of immortal names, “Set mine 
down,” and the song was straightway raised over him— 

“ Come in, come in, 

Eternal glory thou shalt win.” 

But there were in that age other men of original genius 
besides Milton and Bunyan; and almost all of them had bap¬ 
tized it at “ Siloa’s brook, which flowed hard by the oracle of 
God.” Jeremy Taylor soared and sang like Isaiah. John 
Scott copied the severe sententiousness and moral anatomy of 
James; and had besides touches of sublimity, reminding you 
of the loftier of the minor prophets. Barrow reasoned as if 
he had sat, a younger disciple, at the feet of Paul’s master, 
Gamaliel. John Howe rose to calm Platonic heights, less 
through the force of Plato’s attraction than that of the be¬ 
loved disciple. And Richard Baxter caught, carried into his 
pulpit, and sustained even at his solitary desk, the old fury 
of pure and passionate zeal for God, hatred of sin, and love to 
mankind, which shook the body of Jeremiah, and flamed 
round the head and beard, and shaggy raiment of the Baptist. 

In the century that succeeded, we find numerous traces of 
the influences of the Bible. The allegories, and all the other 
serious papers of Addison, are tinged with its spirit. He loves 
not so much its wilder and higher strains; but the lovelier, 
softer, simpler, and more pensive parts of the Bible, are very 
dear to the gentle “ Spectator.” The stories of Joseph and 
Ruth are the models of his exquisite simplicity; and the 8th 
and 104th Psalms, of his quiet and timorous grandeur. Pope’s 


422 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


Messiah owes its superiority to Yirgil’s Pollio, entirely to the 
Hebrew poets. Thomson’s Hymn is avowedly in imitation 
of the latter Psalms ; and his mind, in its sluggish magnifi¬ 
cence, and lavish ornaments, is distinctly Oriental. Every 
page of the “ Seasons ” shows an imagination early influenced 
by the breadth, fervor and magnificence of prophetic song. 
Johnson, too, in his Rasselas, Rambler, and Idler, is often highly 
Oriental, and has caught, if not the inmost spirit, at least the 
outer roll and volume, of the style of the prophets. Burke, in 
his Regicide Peace, approaches them far more closely, and 
exhibits their spirit as well as style, their fiery earnestness, 
their abruptness, their impatience, 
their profusion of metaphor, their 
“ doing well to be angry, even unto 
death,” and the contortions by 
which they were delivered of 
their message, as of a demon. 
How he snatches up their words, 
like the fallen thunderbolts of 
the Titan war, to heave at his 
women grinding grain. and their foes. Ho marvel that 
the cold-blooded eighteenth century thought him mad. 

Burns admired his Bible better than he ever cared to ac¬ 
knowledge, and during his last illness, was often seen with it 
in his hands. Some of the finest passages in both his prose 
and verse are colored by Scripture. But that dislike to it 
natural to those who disobey its moral precepts, was aggra¬ 
vated in him by the wretchedly cold critical circles among 
whom he fell. 

Cowper, the most timid of men, was the most daring of 
poets. He was an oracle hid, not in an oak, but in an aspen. 
In an age when religion was derided, when to quote the Bi¬ 
ble was counted eccentric folly, when Lowth was writing 
books to prove the prophets “ elegant,” a nervous hypochon¬ 
driac ventured to prefer them by infinitude to all other writers, 



HABAKKUK. 


423 


defended their every letter, drank into their sternest spirit, 
and poured out strains which, if no’t in loftiness or richness, 
yet in truth, energy, earnestness and solemn pathos, seem 
omitted or mislaid “burdens of the Lord.” Blessings on this 
noble “ castaway,” rising momentarily o’er the moonlit surge 
which he deemed ready to be his grave, and shouting at once 
words of praise to that Luminary which he behoved was 
never to rescue him, and words of warning to those ap¬ 
proaching the same fearful waters. 



REPUTED TOMB OF ESTHER. 


Scott,^as a writer, knew the force of Scripture diction; as 
a man, the hold of Scripture truth upon the Scottish heart ;• 
as a poet, the unique inspiration which flowed from the Bock 
of Ages; and has, in his works, made a masterly use of all 
this varied knowledge. Rebecca might have been the sister 
of Solomon’s spouse. Her prose speeches rise as to the sound 
of cymbals, and her “hymn” is immortal as a psalm of 
David. David Deans is only a little lower than the patri- 




424 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


archs; and time would fail us to enumerate tire passages in his 
better tales, which, approaching near the line of high excel¬ 
lence, are carried beyond it by the dextrous and sudden use 
of “ thoughts that breathe,” or “ words that burn,” from the 
Book of God. Byron is deeply indebted to the Bible. In 
painting “ dark bosoms,” he has often availed himself of the 
language of that book, which is a discerner of the thoughts 
and intents of the heart. Many of his finest poems are just 
expansions of that strong line he has borrowed from it— 

“ The worm that cannot sleep, and never dies.” 

His “ Hebrew Melodies ” have sucked out their sweetness 
from the Psalms and prophets ; and “ Cain” employs against 
God the power it derives from His Book. 

Goethe, we know, admired the Bible as a composition, took 
great interest in its geography, and had his study hung round 
with maps of the Holy Land. Heed we name Chalmers and 
Irving—those combinations of the prophet of the old, and the 
preacher of the new economy ? Isaac Taylor’s gorgeous 
figures are elaborately copied from those of Scripture, although 
they sometimes, in comparison with them, remind you of that 
root of which Milton speaks— 

“ The leaf was darkish, and had prickles in it, 

But in another country, as he said, 

Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil,” 

The Eastern spirit is within them; they want only the East¬ 
ern day. 

Prof Wilson approaches more closely than any modern 
since Burke, to that wild prophetic movement of style and 
manner which the bards of Israel exhibit—nay, more nearly 
than even Burke, since with Wilson it is a perpetual afflatus; 
he is like the he-goat in Daniel, who came from the west, 
and touched not the ground; his “Tale of Expiation,” for in¬ 
stance, is a current of fire. Thomas Carlyle concentrates a 
fury, enhanced by the same literary influences, into deeper 


HABAKKUK. 


425 


straiter, more molten and terrible torrents. Buskin confesses 
that he owes “ the best part of his taste in literature” to the 
fact that he was forced to learn a great deal of the Bible by 
heart in childhood. 

Extracts from the Bible always attest and vindicate their 
origin. They nerve what else in the sentences in which they 
occur is pointless; they clear a space for themselves, and 
cast a wide glory around the page where they are found. 
Taken from the classics of the heart , all hearts vibrate more or 
less strongly to their voice. It is even as David felt of old 
toward the sword of Goliath, when he visited the high priest 
and said : “ There is none like that, give it me; ” so writers 
of true taste and sympathies feel, when they have certain 
thoughts and feelings to express, a longing for that sharp 
two-edged sword, and an irresistible inclination to cry, “ none 
like that, give it us; this bright Damascus blade alone can cut 
the way of our thought into full utterance and victory.” 

The Prophet Habakkuk furnishes an eminent illustration 
of the literary attractions of the Bible. The crowded splen¬ 
dors of his matchless pictures cannot be equaled outside of 
the sacred volume. When Benjamin Franklin was ambassa¬ 
dor from this country at the court of France, he was a mem¬ 
ber of a literary club composed of the leading wits of Paris. 
It was “the godless eighteenth century,” these men were 
skeptics, and the Bible was a frequent subject of ridicule. 
Franklin knew well their ignorance of it, and one evening he 
said he had met with a passage in an old writer, which had 
pleased him very much, and he wished to have their opinions 
upon it. He then read the third chapter of Habakkuk, and 
when they had exhausted their vocabulary in praise of its 
unequaled sublimity, he told them the source from which the 
extract had been taken. 

The prophecy of Habakkuk is a Pompey’s Pillar—tall, nar¬ 
row, and insulated. It begins abruptly, like an arm suddenly 
shot up in prayer. “ How long, 0 Jehovah, have I cried, and 


426 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


Thou hast not hearkened! Why dost Thou show me iniquity, 
and cause me to behold grievance?” Yet this reluctance to 
describe the frightful scenes he foresaw, is but the trembling 
vibration of the javelin ere it is launched, the hesitation of 
the accusing orator ere his speech has fully begun, the con¬ 
vulsive flutter in the lightning ere the bolt be sped. Over the 
heads of the transgressors of his people he speedily lifts up 
three words, which express all that follows, Behold, Wonder, 
Perish—words suitable to herald the coming of the Chaldeans, 
that “ bitter and hasty nation,” who were swift as the leopard 
and fierce as the evening wolf—as well as characteristic of the 
ardent soul of the prophet, who sees the flower before the 
bud, and finds out the crime by the torch of the punishment. 

How solemn the stillness of the expectation produced by 
the closing words of the second chapter, “ But Jehovah is in 
His holy temple, be silent before Him all the earth.” As in 
summer the still red evening in the west predicts the burning 
morrow, so do these sublimely simple words announce that 
the ode, on its wide wings of shadowy fire, is at hand. 

“ God came from Teman, the Holy One from Paran; His 
glory covered the heavens, and the earth was full of His praise.” 
The procession begins in the wilderness. There, where still 
rise the three tower-like summits of Mount Paran, which, 
when gilded by the evening or morning sun, look like “horns 
of glory,” the Great Pilgrim begins His progress. The light 
is His garment, and rays, as of the morning sun, shoot out 
from His hand. These are at once the horns and the hiding 
of His power. Like a dark raven, the plague flies before him. 
Wherever His feet rest, flashes of fire (or birds of prey) arise. 
He stands, and the earth moves. He looks through the clouds 
which veil Him, and the nations are scattered. As He ad¬ 
vances, the mountains bow. Paran begins the homage; 
Sinai succeeds; the giants of Seir, and Moab, and Bashan fall 
prostrate, till every ridge and every summit has felt the awe 
of His presence. On still He goes, and lo! the tents of Cushan 


HABAKKUK. 


42T 



are uncovered, removed, and their wandering inhabitants van¬ 
ish aw.ay ; and the curtains of the land of Midian tremble as 
lie passes by. But have even the waters perceived Him ? Is 
He angry with the rivers? Has He breathed on them too? 
Jordan stands aside to let Him through dry-shod into Canaan’s 
land. Once entered there, the hills imitate the terror of their 
eastern brethren, and tremble; the deeps of Galilee’s sea and 
the Mediterranean utter 
their voice; the heights, 
from Olivet to Lebanon, 
lift up their hands in won¬ 
der ; and as His arrows fly 
abroad, and His spear glit¬ 
ters, the sun stands still 
over Gibeon, and the moon 
‘over the valley of Ajalon. 

Nor does the awful Pil¬ 
grim repose till He has 
trampled on the nations of 
Canaan as He had on the 
mountains of the East, and 
till over their bruised 
heads and weltering car¬ 
casses He has brought aid to His people and salvation to His 
anointed. 

This analysis fails to convey the rapid accumulation of 
metaphor, the heaving struggle of words, the boldness of 
spirit, the grandeur and sublimity of the prophet. Almost 
all the brighter and bolder images of Old Testament poetry 
are massed in this single strain. Chronology, geography, 
everything must yield to the purpose of the poet; which is 
in every possible way, to do justice to his theme, in piling 
glory on glory around the march of God. 

But the literary beauties of this book, notable as they are, 
concern us not so much as its moral significance. We have 







428 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


here the inward experience of Habakkuk. He, more than 
any other of the prophets, represents the perplexities, not of 
the nation, but of the individual soul—the peculiar trial which 
tormented so many exalted spirits at his time. He, more 
than any other, has furnished to the Christian apostle the doc¬ 
trine which forms the key-note of the three epistles to the Ro¬ 
mans, the Galatians and the Hebrews. From this, its first ap¬ 
pearance in the prophets, may best be learned the original 
and most comprehensive signification of Justification by Faith. 
He saw with grief the increasing contrast of sin and pros¬ 
perity, innocence and suffering. The land seemed given up to 
ruffians who mocked at law and right, and did whatever was 
in the power of their hands. Whoever had seen or heard of 
the tyranny of Manasseh—the luxury and selfishness of the 
nobles—the poor neglected—the prophets persecuted—during 
the last agonies of the kingdom of Judah, might well be pro¬ 
voked into the skeptical, yet confiding prayer : “O Lord, how 
long shall I cry, and Thou wilt not hear ? And cry unto Thee 
out of violence, and Thou wilt not save ? Thou art of purer 
eyes than to behold evil, and canst not look on iniquity: 
wherefore lookest Thou upon them that deal treacherously, 
and holdest Thy tongue when the wicked devoureth the man 
that is more righteous than he ? Andmakest men as the fishes 
of the sea, as the creeping things that have no ruler over 
them ? They take up all of them with the angle, they catch 
them in their net, and gather them in their drag; therefore 
they rejoice and are glad. Therefore they sacrifice unto their 
net, and burn incense unto their drag; because by them their 
portion is fat, and their meat plenteous. Shall they there¬ 
fore empty their net, and not spare continually to slay the 
nations?” 

He retires into himself; he mounts above the world to gain 
a calmer and loftier view, he stands upon his watch and sits 
upon his tower. Like Zephaniah the Divine watcher, like 
Elijah at Horeb, like Elisha on his tower by the Jordan, like 


HABAKKUK. 


429 


Isaiah when he heard the cry, “ W atchman, what of the night ? ” 
he waits to see what the Divine answer to his doubts would 
be. At last it comes. It comes after long delay. “ The vis¬ 
ion is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak.” 
It comes wrapt in contradictions—“tarrying and yet not tar¬ 
rying.” He was to write the vision plainly on the tablets, 
and not to be disappointed by its delay, or bewildered by its 
contradictions. “ Behold he whose heart is lifted up within 
him shall not have his course smooth before him. But the just 
shall live by his faith.” That brief oracle inspires Habakkuk 
with new life. lie had waited in fear for the Divine mes¬ 
sage ; his lips had quivered at the voice, his bones were con¬ 
sumed, his whole being troubled. But as his fear melts into 
hope, the prophet seems to be transformed for the moment 
into the psalmist; the ancient poetic fervor of Deborah is 
rekindled within him; the great days of old rise before him; 
and in that last lyrical outburst of Hebrew poetry, the wild 
struggle is at length calmed; a deep peace settles down 
over the close of the life which had begun in such a tempest 
of doubt and agitation. “ Although the fig-tree shall not 
blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines ; although the la¬ 
bor of the olive shall fail, and the fields yield no food; al¬ 
though the flocks be cut off from the fold, and there shall be 
no herd in the stall; yet will I rejoice in the Lord, I will joy 
in the God of my salvation.” His last strain is as of a sec¬ 
ond David, leaping from crag to crag like the free gazelle, in 
a strength mightier than his own. 

A heathen, and alas! how many a Christian, would be 
afraid to use the language of this prophecy, to reason thus 
with God concerning His judgments. He would cover his 
practical unbelief and inward murmuring with the hollow 
phrases, “ Ho doubt all is for the best,” “ It is the will of 
God and must be right.” The Jewish prophet believed in 
God as a Person, and not as a dark blank fate; and therefore 
he could boldly say, “I know this is not- right. 0 Thou 


430 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


who art altogether right, explain to me the contradictions in 
Thy universe; tell me why Thou sufferest evil to dwell in it. 
Give me some ground upon which I can stand when all is 
reeling and shaking around me. And let it be a ground upon 
which I may rest my hope, not for myself only, but for my 
race, upon which these oppressors are trampling.” 

The prophet’s boldness is vindicated. His feet are planted 
upon the Rock of Ages. In answer to his prayer, the secret 
of all oppression, of that day or of ours, of the State, of the 
Church, or of whatever kind, is made known. The man “ is 
lifted up” in himself, and “ his soul is not upright in him. 
He thinks he has something of his own upon which he may 
exalt himself; therefore he treats human beings as if they were 
creeping things or fishes of the sea. Here, too, is the secret 
of the life of an Israelite, and of the man of God now; he 
“ shall live by his faith.” Feeling and knowing himself to be 
nothing, he casts himself wholly upon God. And anything 
which leads him to this faith is divine ; no matter how dark 
the outward aspects in which it may come, no matter how 
deep the inward anguish it may produce. Here is the solu¬ 
tion of the riddles of the universe ; here is the key to God’s 
dark and inscrutable ways. Hot a solution which we can 
resort to as if it were a formula of ready application, which 
may stifle questioning and set our minds at ease. Hot a key 
such as empirics and diviners use, pretending that they know 
all the wards of every mystery and can open it at their 
pleasure, but one to which the humble and the meek can re¬ 
sort when most baffled, when most ignorant—one which helps 
them to welcome their own tribulations, and to see in the 
tribulations of the world a sure witness that the earth shall 
be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the 
waters cover the sea. At the root of confusion is eternal 
order. Every dark power in nature, every human will, must 
work out the purposes of Eternal Love. Thus the saddest of 
all prophecies ends with a song; the stringed instruments 


HABAKKUK. 


431 


give out a music which is deeper than all the discords and 
wailings of creation. 

Beautiful indeed is the spirit of Habakkuk, and expressing 
in another form the grand conclusion of Job, and of all earnest 
and reconciled spirits. A God so great must be good; and He 
who hath done things in the past so mighty and terrible, yet 
in their effects so gracious, may well be expected to pursue His 
own path, however inscrutable, to the ultimate good of the 
world and the Church, and now, as in the days of old, often 
to answer our prayers by works that are “ fearful ” as well as 
magnificent. But if the prophet, with his dim light, could 
give us so sublime an example of confidence in God, what 
exultation and joy should be ours who, in a higher sense 
than he knew, are permitted to walk and “ live by faith ”! 
The power which these words of the prophet exerted in form¬ 
ing the character of Luther, and giving direction to Protest¬ 
antism, is a matter of history. Engaged in delivering exe- 
getical lectures upon the Scriptures at Wittenberg, Luther 
came, in his private study of the divine word, to the seven¬ 
teenth verse of the first chapter of Paul's Epistle to the 
Romans, and there read this passage from Habakkuk, “ The 
just shall live by faith." It was a creative word for the 
Reformer and the Reformation. 

Equally familiar to most of us is the beautiful paraphrase 
of the closing song of the prophet, given to us by one who, in 
a later age, had much of the spirit and faith of Luther: 

“ Sometimes a light surprises 

The Christian while he sings; 

It is the Lord who rises 
With healing in His wings. 

Set free from present sorrow, 

We cheerfully can say, 

Let the unknown to-morrow 
Bring with it what it may, 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


“ It can bring with it nothing 
But He will bear us through; 
Who gives the lilies clothing 
Will clothe His people too. 
Beneath the spreading heavens 
No creature but is fed; 

And He who feeds the ravens 
Will give His children bread. 

“ Though vine nor fig tree neither 
Their wonted fruit should bear, 
Though all the fields should wither, 
Nor flocks nor herds be there, 

Yet God the same abiding, 

His praise shall tune my voice; 
For while in Him confiding, 

I cannot but rejoice.” 




































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ST. JOHN AT PATMOS 





























I 


XII. 

JOHN.* 


Did John resemble Jesus?—Jesus His Theme—His Epistles Love-Let¬ 
ters—“ God is Love ”—“ We shall see Him as He Is ”—His Gospel— 
“ In the Beginning was the Word ”—Visit of Nicodemus to Jesns— 
Jesus and the Blind Man—Lazarus and his Sisters—“ Jesus Wept ”■— 
John the Seer of the Apocalypse—Its Terrors and Glories—Simplicity 
of John amid the Bursting Vials of this Mystic Volume-Is it a Poem ?- 
Its Towering Imagery—Outline of the Book—It has Kept its Secret— 
Who Shall open it and Loose its Seals ? 

We need not be afraid to avow that we have our favorites 
among Scripture writers, and that a leading favorite is John. 
There was “ one disciple whom Jesus loved”; and we plead 
guilty to loving the writer supremely too. It has been sup¬ 
posed by some, that there was a certain resemblance between 
the countenance of John, and that of Jesus. We figure the 
same sweetness in the smile, the same silence of ineffable re¬ 
pose upon the brow, the same mild luster in the eye. And, as 
long as John lived, he would renew to those who had known 
the Saviour the impressions made by his transcendent beauty, 
for transcendently beautiful he surely was. But the resem¬ 
blance extends to the features of his composition, as well as 
of his face. It seems Jesus who is still speaking to us. The 
babe-like simplicity, the artlessness, the lisping out of the 
loftiest thoughts, the sweet undertone of utterance, the warm 
female-like tenderness and love, along with a certain Divine 
dogmatism, of the Great Teacher, are all found in an inferior 
measure in the writing of his Apostle. He has, too, a portion 
of that strange familiarity with Divine depths which distin¬ 
guished his Master, who speaks of them always as if He were 

*From Gilfillan. 

(435) 



436 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


lying in. His Father’s bosom. So John seems perfectly at 
home in heaven, and the stupendous subjects and scenery 
thereof. He is not like Paul, “ caught up to Paradise,” but 
walks like a native through its blessed clime. His face is 
flushed with the ardors of the eternal noon, and his style 
wears the glow of that celestial sunshine. He dips his pen in 
love—the pure and fervid love of heaven. Love-letters are 
his Epistles—the mere artless spillings of the heart—such let¬ 
ters as Christ might have written to the family at Bethany. 
Jesus is the great theme of John. His name perpetually oc¬ 
curs ; nay, he thinks so often of Him, that he sometimes speaks 
of, without naming, Him. Thus, “ Beloved, now are we the 
sons of God; and it doth not yet appear what we shall be; 
but we know that, when He shall appear, we shall be like 
Him.” “ Because that for His name’s sake they went forth, 
taking nothing of the Gentiles.” In his Epistles, occurs the 
sentence of sentences, “ God is love.” Why is not this sen¬ 
tence sown in our gardens in living green ; framed and hung 
on the walls of our nurseries ; taught as the first sounds to 
little ones ? Why not call God Love ? Why not instruct 
children to answer, when asked who made you ? Love, the 
Father. Who redeems you ? Love, the Son. Who sanctifies 
you ? Love, the Holy Ghost ? Surely on some day of balm 
did this golden word pass across the mind of the apostle, 
when, perhaps, pondering on the character, and recalling the 
face of Jesus, looking up to the glowing sky and landscape of 
the East, and feeling his own heart burning within him, he 
spread out the spark in his bosom, till it became a flame, en¬ 
compassing the universe, and the great generalization leapt 
from his lips—“ God is love.” Complete as an epic, and im¬ 
mortal as complete, stands this poem-sentence, insulated in its 
own mild glory, and the cross of Jesus is below. 

Imagination, properly speaking, is not found in the Epistles 
of John. They are full of heart, of practical suggestions, of 
intuitive insight, and of grave, yet tender dignity. You see 


JOHN. 


437 


the aged and venerable saint seated among his spiritual chil¬ 
dren, and pouring out his rich simplicities of thought and 
feeling, while a tear now and then steals down his cheek. 
That passion for Christ, which was in John as well as in Paul, 
appears in the form of tranquil expectation. We shall soon 
“ see him as he is .” The orator is seen as he is, when he has 
shot his soul into his entire audience, and is ruling them like 
himself. The warrior appears as he is, when lifting up his 
far-seen finger of command, and leading on the charge. The 
poet is seen as he is, when the fine frenzy of inspiration is in 
his eye. So Jesus shall be seen as He is, when He comes 
garlanded and girt for the judgment; and when, blessed 
thought, His people shall be like Him, for the first look of that 
wondrous face of His shall complete and eternize the begun 
similitude, and the angelic hosts, perceiving the resemblance, 
seeing millions upon millions of reflected Christs, shall take 
up the cry, “ Open ye the gates, that the righteous nation may 
enter in.” 

In his Gospel, John takes a loftier and more daring flight. 
He leaps at once into the Empyrean, and walks with calm, 
majestic mastery beside its most awful gulfs. How abruptly 
it begins! “ In the beginning was the Word, and the Word 
was with God, and the Word was God.” This emulates, 
evidently, the first sentence of Genesis, and ranks with it, and 
the first word, “ God,” in the Hebrews, as one of the three 
grandest introductions in literature. Our minds are carried 
back to the silent and primeval abyss. Over it there is heard 
suddenly a sound, which swells on and on, till to its tune that 
abyss conceives, labors, agonizes, and brings forth the uni¬ 
verse, and the harmony dies aways in the words—“Itis very 
good.” Or, hear a true poet— 

“ A power and a glory of silence lay, 

O’erbrooding the lonely primeval day, 

Ere yet unwoven the veil of light, 

Through which shineth forth the eternal might; 


438 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


When the Word on the infinite void went forth, 

And stirred it with pangs of a god-like birth ; 

And forth sprung the twain, in which doth lie, 

Enfolded all being of earth and sky. 

****** 

Then rested the Word, for its work was done." 

To follow the history of the “ Omnific Word”—the Logos, 
and darling thought of Plato—till he traced him entering into 
a lowly stable in Bethlehem, and wedding a village virgin’s 
son, is John’s difficult but divine task. Great, indeed, is the 
mystery of godliness, but not too great to be believed. The 
center of this creation is now supposed by many to lie, not in 
one orb vaster than his fellows, but in some obscure point. 
Thus, the God of it was found in fashion as a man, in the car^ 
penter’s son—the flower of man, and fellow of Jehovah—but 
with His glory disguised behind a robe of flesh, and with a 
cross for His death-place. Who has not at times been impressed 
with an intuitive feeling, as he walked along with a friend, of 
the exact magnitude of his mind, and of his true character, 
which came rushing upon him, and could not be gainsaid or 
disbelieved ? John, too, as he lay on the bosom of the Saviour, 
and listened to His teaching, seems to have felt the burning 
impression, that through those eyes looked Omniscience, and 
that below that bosom was beating the very love of God, and 
said, “ This is the true God, and Eternal Life.” “ The Word 
was made flesh, and dwelt among us; and we beheld His glory, 
the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace 
and truth.” No mere logical deduction could have led him to 
such a conclusion, apart from his profound intuitive persua¬ 
sion ; and that once formed, no catena of ten thousand links 
could have dragged him back from it. “ Flesh and blood hath 
not revealed it, but my Father which is in heaven.” 

Full to Christ, in his highest estate, from the very begin¬ 
ning of his Gospel, does this Evangelist point. The others 
commence With recounting His earthly ancestry, or the par¬ 
ticulars of E[is birth. John shows Him at once as the “Lord, 


JOHN. 


439 


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440 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


high and lifted up,” descending from this eminence to wed 
Ilis own body, and to save His people’s souls. ’Tis the only 
complete history of Christ. It traces His connection with the 
Father, not through the blood of patriarchs and kings, but 
through the heavens, up directly to Jehovah’s bosom. How 
grand this genealogy—“ No man hath seen God, at any time; 
the only begotten Son, which is in the bosom o£ the Father, 
He hath declared Him!” And after announcing His true 
descent, he sets himself through the rest of the book, as if 
acting under the spell of a lover’s fascination, to record every 
word which he could catch from those heavenly lips, as well 
as to narrate some of the tenderer and more private incidents 
in the life of the “ Man of Sorrows.” 

We cannot refrain from referring to one or two scenes, ex¬ 
clusively related by John, of an intensely poetical character: 
one is, the visit of Nicodemus to Jesus by night. Meetings 
of interesting and representative men, especially when unex¬ 
pected and amid extraordinary circumstances, become critical 
points in the history of mankind. Such was the meeting of 
Wallace and Bruce: the one representing Scotland’s \yild 
patriotic valor—the other, its calmer, more collected, and 
regal-seeming power. Such was that of old Galileo and young 
Milton in the dungeon—surely a theme for the noblest pen¬ 
cil—the meeting of Italy’s old savant , and England’s young 
scholar—the gray-haired sage, each wrinkle on his forehead 
the furrow of a star; and the “ Lady of his College,” with 
Comus curling in his fair locks, and the dream of Eden sleep¬ 
ing on his smooth brow; while the dim twilight of the cell, 
spotted by the fierce eyes of the officials, seemed the age too 
late, or too early, on which both had fallen—a meeting like 
that of morning, with her one star and coming day, and of 
midnight, with all her melancholy maturity, and hosts of 
diminished suns—a meeting like that of two centuries. 

Nicodemus represented the inquiring and dissatisfied mind 
of Jewry—“ Young Jerusalem ”—sick of forms and quib- 


JOHN. 


441 


bles, and yet unable to comprehend as yet a spiritual faith; 
tired of the present, but not ripe for the future ; in love with 
Christ’s miracles, but fearing His cross, and not despising its 
shame. And hence, when the evening fell down, with a step 
soft and silent as its shadows, he steals forth to meet with, 
and talk to, Jesus. Jesus, seeing in him the representative 
of a class—a class possessing many excellent qualities—who 
are sincere, whose belief in formalities and old saws and 
shams is shaken, who are anxious inquirers, but who unite to 
these characteristics weakness of will, timidity of disposition, 
and a lack of profound spirituality and self-sacrifice—tells him 
in effect, “ Dream not that you can get to heaven in this tiptoe 
fashion, that you can always walk with the night, in seeking the 
day; you must all go my length, you must walk with me as well 
as to me ; you must make a public and prominent stand for 
my cause; and that you may be able to do this, you must 
undergo a thorough and vital change; you must become a 
little child; you must be born again; you must sink down 
into the cradle ere you can hope to begin your ascent toward 
the throne.” 

How this strange yet noble paradox of our religion—the 
most staggering of all spiritual truths—must have sounded in 
the ear of Nicodemus, at the dead hour of night, when all 
else was sleeping, save the stars! Ah! ye bright watchers, 
and holy ones, ye have many voices, many words and lan¬ 
guages are yours, but ye cannot utter such a truth as this— 
“ Ye must be born again!” Tremble on, then, and remain 
silent, and allow him to speak who can! 

There are modern Nicodemuses, who hold stolen inter¬ 
views with Christ, and cast stolen glances at Christianity, and 
yet will not walk right onward with him, nor fully embrace his 
faith. These are of various classes; but we may here specify 
two. There are those, first, who, like Nicodemus, believe 
the Saviour’s miracles, but do not feel the deep radical spiritu¬ 
ality of His religion. Such men do desperate battle for the 


442 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


external evidence, but are strangers to tbe living power. To 
them the words, “ Ye must be born again,” sound meaning¬ 
less, empty, and strange. Others, again, a class numerous at 
present, are not in sympathy with the miraculous part of 
Christianity, scarcely believe in it, have, nevertheless, a 
liking for its spiritual and loftier aspects, but loath the 
humility and child-like submission which it requires of its 
votaries. They would see—what would they not see ; —if 
they would stoop ? But stoop they will not. Its spirit, in 
other words, is not theirs ; and, therefore, they behold Christ 
only at and through the night. If they were but, like 
Nicodemus, to wait and hear the words of Jesus, till the day 
should break and all the shadows should flee away ! For he 
had, after all, a noble destiny. He followed Christ afar off; 
but he followed Him to the last. He was true to His dust. 
He, with Joseph of Arimathea, took him down from the 
cross ; and both seem now chiseled supporters to his drooping 
head, and chiseled mourners over his lonely grave. Not men 
to support his living cause ; they were marble to bend over, 
adorn, and defend his dead body. 

The scene between Jesus, the blind man, and the Jews, 
related in the 9th chapter, is not only remarkable, as Paley 
notices, for its air of truth, but for its dramatic interest. The 
play of character with character—the manner in which the 
peculiarities of each are supported—the retorts of the blind 
man, so keen-witted and caustic—the undulations of the little 
story—and the close in the conversion of the poor man, all 
prove it a leaf from the book of life, but plucked and ar¬ 
ranged by the hand of a master and an eye-witness. Equally 
natural, and tenderer far, is the history of Lazarus and his 
sisters. We say not, with an eminent living divine, that 
Jesus loved Mary with the pure and peculiar affection which 
the word generally implies; but certainly His heart regarded 
the circle of Bethany, of which she was one, with especial 
interest. Lazarus seems to have been an innocent—not in 


JOHN. 


443 


weakness, perhaps, but in gentleness; one of those living 
pauses in the music of man whom it is pleasant and rare to 
encounter. In that house, the Saviour felt Himself, more than 
anywhere else, at rest; it was an arbor on His hill Difficulty, 
where He loved well to be, and where the three in dwellers 
seemed to perform various parts in suiting and soothing His 
wide nature—Martha ministering to His necessities, Mary 
sitting at His feet, and Lazarus forming His mild and shorn 
shadow. The ministering spirit, the listening disciple, and 
the quiet reflector of His glory, were all there. 

Into this loving circle, the entrance of Jesus did not pre¬ 
vent that of death. And who needs to be reminded of the 
melting circumstances of that death—of the slow approach of 
the Saviour—of the meeting with Martha—of Mary casting her¬ 
self down in her tears before Him, tears which seem to accuse 
His delay as the cause of her brother’s death—of Christ’s own 
troubled spirit and weeping eyes—or of the brief, but victori¬ 
ous duel with death, at the mouth of the cave, at the close of 
which the dead-alive came forth, and the yawn of the grave 
behind seemed that of the disappointment of the last enemy 
himself, and the light of returning life in Lazarus’ eyes, the 
first spark of the general resurrection ? “ Jesus wept.” It 

is the shortest sentence in the Bible. But sooner than have 
wanted that little sentence, should we have consented that all 
books but the Bible should have perished—that the entire 
glories of an earthly literature had sunk into the grave of for¬ 
getfulness. For the tears of the Divine Man are links binding 
us immediately to the throne of God, and the rainbow which 
is around it. 

John, indeed, seems to have set himself to preserve all the 
tearful passages which trickle down upon the history of Jesus. 
He was a gatherer of tears; and to him we owe such rich 
gleanings as the scene between himself, Jesus, and Marj r , His 
mother, at the cross—the interview between Christ and Mary 
Magdalene, when the one word “Mary,” uttered in His old 


444 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE 



GKTUSEMANJE, 


































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































JOHN. 


445 


tones, opened the way to her heart, and made her feel that her 
Lord was the same to-day as He had been yesterday—and the 
cross-questioning of Simon, son of Jonas, carried on till he was 
grieved, and cried, “ Lord, Thou knowest all things; Thou 
knowest that I love Thee.” 

Thus is the Gospel of John—the Odyssey of Christ’s mar¬ 
velous story—calmer, softer, and higher than the other three. 
The first three leave Christ with the halo of heaven around 
His head; while this deepens, perhaps, the grandeur of the 
Ascension, by dropping the veil over it. And in what a 
noble hyperbole does the warm-hearted Apostle close his nar¬ 
rative ! “ There are also many other things which Jesus did, 

the which, if they should be written every one, I suppose that 
even the world itself could not contain the books that should 
be written.” Exaggeration this, of a very pardonable sort, if it 
refer only to the literal deeds which our short-lived Saviour per¬ 
formed, or to the literal words of a three years’ ministry. But 
it becomes literally true, if we look to the spiritual import and 
manifold influences of that life and that Gospel. These have 
overflowed earth, and. spilled their golden drops throughout 
the universe. That “ story of a life” has passed already into 
almost every language, and into innumerable millions of 
hearts. Already men, amid trackless wildernesses, in every 
region of the world, are blessing their bread and their water 
in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, or looking up in silent 
worship, as they seethe Cross of the South at midnight, bend¬ 
ing in the glimmering desert of the tropical air. Hay, as 
astronomers tell us, that there is an era at hand when that 
splendid constellation shall be seen in our hemisphere, as well 
as in the south, and shall peacefully shine down the glories 
of Arcturus and Orion; so there is a day coming when all 
nations shall call Christ blessed, and the whole earth be 
filled with His glory. It can be done, for it is in God’s 
power; it shall be done, for it is in His prophecy. 

That this tender-hearted and babe-like Apostle should have 


446 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


become the seer of the dreadful splendors of the Apocalypse— 
that its crown of fire should be seen sitting on the head of 
the author of the Epistle to the Elec^Lady, may seem strange, 
and has, along with other difficulties, induced many to deny 
to John the authorship of this mystic volume. For a reso¬ 
lution of the external difficulties, we refer our readers to the 
critical works which abound. The intellectual difficulty does 
not seem to us very formidable. The Apocalypse differs 
not more widely from the Epistles, than Coleridge’s “ Rime of 
the Ancient Mariner,” from his “Fears in Solitude; ” or, than 
Shelley’s “Prometheus Unbound,” from his “ Stanzas written 
in Dejection, near Naples.” Often authors seem to rise or to 
sink into spheres quite alien, and afar from the common 
dwelling-place of their genius. Their style and language 
alter. They are caught above themselves, like “the swift Eze¬ 
kiel, by his lock of hair; ” or they slip .momentarily down 
into abysses of strange bathos. So with John. In a desert 
island, with his mind thrown out, by this very solitude, into 
the obscure prospects of the future'—with the “ visions of 
God ” bowing their burden upon his soul—what wonder that 
his language should change, his figures mix, and his spirit 
even, and genius, undergo transfiguration ? 

Nay, we fancy a peculiar beauty in this selection of John. 
Who has not seen a child astray in a populous city, shielded 
by her very weakness, safe, as if seated by her mother’s 
knee ? Beautiful and melting, to grandeur, this spectacle ; 
but finer still that of John, lost and safe in his simplicity 
and innocence, amid the bursting vials, slow-opening seals, 
careering chariots, conflicting multitudes, and cataracts of 
fire and blood, which fill this transcendent vision! The help¬ 
lessness of the seer adds to the greatness of the spectacle; 
and we feel this is no elaborate work of a visionary artist— 
it is the mere transcript of a sight which came upon his soul; 
and no lamb ever looked with more innocent, fearless uncon¬ 
sciousness, upon an eclipse passing over his glen, than does 


JOHN. 


447 


John regard the strange terrors and tumultuating glories of 
the Apocalypse. Once, indeed, he “ falls down as dead” ; but 
his general attitude is that of quiet, though rapt reception. 

It is, indeed, a tumultuating glory that of the Revelation, 
lie who has watched a thunder-storm half-formed, or a bright 
but cloudy sunset, must have observed, with the author of 
the “ Lights and Shadows,” “ a show of storm, yet feeling of 
calm, over all that tumultuous yet settled world of cloud.” It 
seemed a tempest of darkness or of light arrested in mid 
career. An image of the Apocalypse! It is a hubbub of 
magnificence melting into beauty, and of beauty soaring into 
sublimity—of terror, change, victory, defeat, shame, and 
glory, agonies, and ecstasies, chasing each other over a space 
beneath which hell yawns, above which heaven opens, and 
around which earth now lightens with the glory of the one, 
and now darkens with the uprising smoke of the other. 
Noises, too, there are ; the sound of chariots running to bat¬ 
tle ; the opening of doors in heaven, as if answering the 
revolving portals of the pit; rejoicings heard in heaven, wail¬ 
ings arising from hell; now the speech of dragons, now the 
voice of lambs, and anon the roar of lions ; great multitudes 
speaking, earthquakes crashing, trumpets sounding, thunders 
lifting up their voices—above all this, heard at intervals, the 
New Song from the lips of the redeemed, amid it, coming up, 
the thin and thrilling cry of the “souls under the altar”; 
and behind it, and closing the vision, the united hallelujah of 
earth and heaven. 

The book might thus almost be termed a spiritual oratorio, 
ready for the transcription of a Ilandel or a Ilaydn, and surely 
supplying a subject equal to “ Samson,” the “ Creation,” or 
the “ Messiah.” But where now the genius able to play it off, 
in all its variety and compass? And where the audience 
who would bear its linked, and swelling, and interchanging, 
and long-protracted harmonies ? Music has echoed divinely 
the Divine words—“ Let there be light ”—and rolled out in 


443 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


thunder surges the darkness of the crucifixion, and made the 
blindness of the Hebrew Hercules “ darkness audible but 
it has jet a greater task to do, in incarnating in sound the 
dumb and dreadful soul of music sleeping in the Apocalypse. 

But the question may here arise, To what order of poems 
docs the Apocalypse belong—if, indeed, it be a poem at all ? 
We have read much controversy as to its poetical character 
and form. On the one hand, it has been contended, that its 
structure, and the frequent occurrences of parallelisms, con¬ 
stitute it entirely a poem; while it is maintained, on the 
other, that, while poetical passages occur, its general cast is 
symbolical rather than poetical, and itself no more a poem 
than the Gospels. The truth is, the Scripture was composed 
partly of poetic statement and partly of poetic song—the 
former including in it, too, the expression of symbols, which, 
however plainly stated, are poetical in the truths they shadow 
as well as in the shadows themselves. This definition, we 
think, includes the whole Apocalypse. We have, first, in it 
the general dogmatic or hortatory matter of the three com¬ 
mencing chapters, which, though full of figure, has no rhyth¬ 
mical rise or melody; secondly, the symbols of the Temple 
and its furniture, the seals, beasts, etc.; thirdly, the songs and 
ascriptions of thanksgiving sprinkled throughout; and, 
fourthly, the great story, or plot, which winds its way amid 
all those strange and varied elements. Thus, all is poetical 
in essence, but part only poetical in form. The whole is a 
poem, i. e., a creation; but a creation like God’s, containing 
portions of more and of less intensity and sweetness. The 
difference between it and the Gospels is chiefly, that they are 
professedly histories, with fictitious and rhythmical parts; 
the Apocalypse professedly a vision, with much in it that 
must be taken literally, and with a profound meaning running 
through all its symbols and songs. Though a poem, it is not 
the less essentially , though it is the less literally , true. 

But to what species of poem does it belong ? By Eichhorn 


JOHN. 


449 


and others, it is, on account of its changing actors, shifting 
scenes, and the presence of a chorus, ranked with the drama. 
Stuart calls it an epopee; others class it with lyric poems. 
We are not disposed to coincide entirely with any of these 
opinions. As well call a series of dissolving views, with the 
music to which they dissolve or enter, a regular drama, with 
a regular chorus, as the Apocalypse. A poetic recital of a 
poetic story it is; but both the story and the recital are far 



MOUHT OF OLIVES. 


from regular. Lyrics ring in it, like bells amid a midnight 
conflagration; but as a whole, it is narrative. Shall we then 
say of it merely—“I saw a great tumult, and knew not what 
it was ? ” Or shall we call it a poem-mystery, acknowledg¬ 
ing no rules, including all styles and all forms, and gathering 
all diversified elements into one glorious, terrible, nondescript 
composite ? Has it not unwittingly painted its own image in 
in one of those locusts, which it describes riding over the 
earth? It is, in its warlike genius, like “unto a horse pre' 
pared for the battle.” It wears on its head a crown of gold—-the 
gold of towering imagery. Its piercing intuition makes its “ face 
29 







450 


PROPHETS OP THE BIBLE. 


as the face of man, and its teeth as the teeth of a lion.” Mys¬ 
tery, like the “hair of woman,” floats around it, and hard¬ 
ens into a “breastplate of iron” over its breast. Its “tail 
stings like a scorpion,” in the words—“If any man shall take 
away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall 
take away his part from the book of life, and out of the holy 
city.” And its rapid and rushing eloquence is “like the 
sound of chariots—of many horses running to battle.” Here, 
there may be fancy in our use of the symbols, but the char¬ 
acteristics thus symbolized are realities. 

IIow wonderful the mere outline of this book! The stage 
a solitary island— 

“ Placed far amid the melancholy main," 

the sole spectator, a gray-haired Apostle of Jesus, who once 
lay on His breast, but is now alone in the world; the time, 
the Lord’s-day, acquiring a deeper sacredness from the sur¬ 
rounding solitude and silence of nature; the appearance of 
the Universal Bishop, gold-girt, with head and hairs white as 
snow, flaming eyes, feet like burning brass, voice as the sound 
of many waters, the seven stars in His right hand, and walk¬ 
ing through the midst of the seven golden candlesticks ; His 
charges t<j> His churches so simple, affectionate and awful; the 
opening of a door in heaven; the throne, rainbow-surrounded, 
fringed by the seven lamps, and seeing its shadow in the sea 
of glass, mingled with fire; the Lion of the tribe of Judah 
opening the seals; the coming forth of the giant steeds—one 
white as the milky banner of the Cross, another red as blood 
—a third black, and with a rider having a pair of balances in 
his hand—a fourth pale, and mounted by death; the cry of 
the souls under the altar; the opening of the sixth seal; the 
angels standing on the four corners of the earth, and blowing 
their blasts over a silent world; the sealing of the tribes; the 
great multitude standing before the Lamb; the volcano cast like 
a spark into the sea; the opening of the bottomless pit; 


JOHN. 


451 


the emergence of those fearful hybrids of hell—the scorpion 
locusts, with Apollyon as their king; the unwritten words of 
the seven thunders; the prophesying, and death, and resur¬ 
rection of the two witnesses; the woman clothed with the 
sun ; that other woman, drunk and drenched in holy blood; 
the uprising of the twin beasts of crowned blasphemy; the 
Lamb and His company on the Mount Zion; the angel flying 
through the midst of heaven, with the Gospel in his mouth; 
the man on the white cloud, with the gold crown on his head, 
and the sharp sickle in his hand; the reaping of the harvest 
of the earth; the vintage of blood; the coming forth from 
the smoke of the glory of God—of the seven angels, with the 
seven last plagues, clothed with linen, girded with virgin gold, 
and holding, with hands unharmed and untrembling, the vials 
full of the wrath of God—one for the earth—one for the sea 
—one for the fountains of waters—©ne for the sun, to feed 
his old flame into ten-fold fierceness—one for the seat of the 
beast—one for the Euphrates—and one for the fire-tormented 
and earthquake-listening air; the fall of the great city Baby¬ 
lon ; the preparations for the battle of Armageddon; the ad¬ 
vent of the Captain of the holy host; the battle ; the rout of 
the beast, and the false prophet driven back upon the lake of 
fire; the binding of Satan; the reign of Christ and his saints; 
the final assault of the enemy, Gog and Magog, upon the 
camp and the holy city; their discomfiture; the uprising be¬ 
hind it, of the great white throne; and the ultimate and ever¬ 
lasting “ bridal of the earth and sky ”—such are the main con¬ 
stituents of this prodigious and unearthly poem, the Apoca¬ 
lypse, or Revelation of Jesus Christ. 

But what saith this Scripture ? of what is this the ciphered 
story. “ Who shall open this book, and loose the seals there¬ 
of?” We seem to see ten thousand attenuated forms, and 
pale and eager countenances hanging over, and beseeching its 
obstinate oracle. We remember the circle of books which 
have, in the course of ages, slowly gathered around it, like 


452 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


planets around the sun, in vain, for how can planets add to 
the clearness of their central luminary? We remember the 
fact, that many strong spirits, such as Calvin and Luther, have 
shrunk from the task of its explication, and that Robert Hall 
is reported to have said, when asked to undertake it, “ Do you 
wish me in my grave?” We remember that the explana¬ 
tions hitherto given constitute a very chaos of contradictions, 
and remind us of the 

“ Eternal anarchy, amid the noise 
Of endless wars, and by confusion stand. 

For hot, cold, moist and dry, four champions fierce, 

Strive here for mast’ry, and to battle bring 
Their embryon atoms; they around the flag 
Of each his faction in their several clans, 

Light arm'd, or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift or slow, 

Swarm populous.” 

So that the question still recurs, “ Who shall open the book 
and loose the seals thereof?” 

Sin, the sorceress, kept the key of hell. Perhaps to Time, 
the truth-teller, has been intrusted the key of this chaos; or, 
perhaps some angel genius, mightier still than Mede, or 
Elliott, or Croly, may yet be seen speeding, “ with a key in 
his hand,” to open this surpassing problem, and with “ a great 
chain,” to bind its conflicting interpreters. Our notion rather 
is, that the full solution is reserved for the second coming of 
Christ; that He alone possesses the key to its mystery, who 
holds, also, the keys of Hades and of death; and that over 
this hitherto inscrutable volume, as over so many others, the 
song shall be sung, “ Thou, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, 
art worthy to take the book, and to open the seals thereof.” 

We cannot close the Apocalypse, without wondering at its 
singular history. An island dream, despised at first by many, 
as we would have despised that of a seer of Mull or Ben- 
becula, admitted with difficulty into the canon, has foretold 
and outlived dynasties—made popes tremble and toss upon 
their midnight beds—made conquerors pale, as they saw, or 


JOHN. 


453 


thought they saw, their own achievements traced along its 
mysterious page, and their own bloody seas anticipated—fired 
the muse of the proudest poets, and the pencil of the most 
gifted artists—and drawn, as students and admirers, around 
its cloudy center, the doctors, and theologians, and philoso¬ 
phers of half the world. And, most wonderful of all, it has 
kept its secret —it has baffled all inquirers, and continues 
“ shrouded and folded up,” like a ghost in its own formless 
shades, ranking thus, either with the dreams of mere madness, 
and forming a silent but tremendous satire on a world of 
fools, who have consented to believe and to examine it; or, 
as we believe, with those grand enigmas of Nature, Provi¬ 
dence and Faith, which can only be stated, and can only be 
solved, by God Himself. 


454 


PROPHETS OF THE BIBLE. 


GOD IS LOVE. 

“ I say to thee, do thou repeat • 

To the first man thou mayest meet, 

In lane, highway or open street, 

“ That he, and we, and all men move 
Under a canopy of Love, 

As broad as the blue sky above ; 

“ That doubt and trouble, fear and pain, 
And anguish, all are sorrows vain; 

That death itself shall not remain; 

“ That weary deserts we may tread, 

A dreary labyrinth may thread, 

Through dark ways underground be led; 

“ Yet if we will our Guide obey, 

The dreariest path, the darkest way, 
Shall issue out in heavenly day. 

“ And we, on divers shores now cast, 

Shall meet, our perilous voyage past, 

All in our Father’s home at last. 

“ And ere thou leave him, say thou this. 
Yet one word more: They only miss 
The winning of the final bliss 

“ Who will not count it true that Love, 
Blessing, not cursing, rules above, 

And that in it we live and move ; 

“ And one thing further make him know, 
That to believe these things are so, 

This firm faith never to forego— 

“ Despite of all which seems at strife 
With blessing, and with curses rife— 
That this is blessing, this is life.” 


Trench. 











ISLE OF PATMOS 







































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































THE SEYEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


Introduction. —The Mediterranean—Asia Minor—Genial Winters—Re¬ 
viving Showers—Beautiful Scenery—Vegetable Kingdom—Animals— 
Salt Lakes—Mountain System—The Apocalypse—Patmos—What is 
Meant by Asia—The Number Seven—The Seven Churches. 

Beautiful is all this wide world of ours, which the infinite 
goodness of God has made for the delight and edification of 
man; but there is not, perhaps, a lovelier region than the 
Asiatic coast of the Mediterranean Sea. That sea is, in itself, 
singularly full of charm and entertainment for the lover of 
nature as for the student of history. Its blue surface is stud¬ 
ded with gem-like islands of all dimensions, from the kingdom 
of Sicily to the barren volcanic rock; most of them enriched 
with the choicest gifts of fertility, blooming with flower and 
leaf, and radiant with an almost eternal sunshine. Few vio¬ 
lent tempests ever wrinkle its “ azure brow ”; its tides flow 
so gently as to be almost imperceptible ; and such is its gen¬ 
eral aspect of tranquillity that it might more fitly be described 
as a vast inland lake. 

Its smiling waters, moreover, wash the shores of historic 
lands—of lands in the old time the seat of mighty empires— 
Rome and Greece, Egypt and Carthage ; and it has ever been 
the principal highway of the world’s commerce, from that 
remote antiquity when the adventurous Phenicians first fur¬ 
rowed it with the keels of their many-oared galleys, to the 
present day, when it is the great route to the East. In the 
belief of the ancients it occupied the very center of the globe; 
and hence they named it the Mid-Earth, or Mediterranean. 
It was the 11 mighty ocean,” the “ many-sounding sea,” the 
“ raging deep” of their poets; the realm of strange monsters 
and sea-gods, Tritons and Nereides; and regarded both by 



458 


SEVEN CHURCHES OP ASIA. 


landsman and mariner with an awe and terror which to us 
moderns seem almost incomprehensible. 

It is toward the sunrise that it laves the shores of Asia 
Minor or Lesser Asia; shores which present a curiously bro¬ 
ken and irregular outline, and throughout almost their whole 
extent are bordered with a fringe of islands, which seem at 
some distant period to have formed part of the mainland. On 
the present occasion we have to concern ourselves with only 
a small portion of Asia Minor—the littoral , or country skirt¬ 
ing the Mediterranean, from the river Caicus to the river 
Mendere; for the most part a narrow strip of land, bounded 
by lofty mountain ranges, and diversified by their projecting 
spurs, but occasionally expanding into broad smiling plains, 
and deepening into exuberantly fertile valleys. While the 
distant peaks glitter with a permanent crown of ice and snow, 
around their base flourishes a belt of smiling garden-ground 
and “ purple orchards higher up the mountain-side spreads 
a dark-green girdle of forests; from many a rocky recess 
trickles the tiny thread of a crystal stream; and on the pro¬ 
jecting crags are perched the stone walls of silent convents, 
or the scattered huts of drowsy villages. Offsets from these 
mountains strike across the plain to the very margin of the 
sea, where they terminate in bold, romantic precipices, bleached 
by incessant surf and spray. 

The valleys and meads of Asia Minor are fall of rich vege¬ 
table mould, particularly the plain of Smyrna, which is bril¬ 
liantly verdant, and watered by numerous streams, that 
contribute to its freshness and abundance. Here the winter 
is so genial that the orange, the banana, and other tender 
trees, flourish in the open air, and are radiant with fruit and 
flowers even while the distant mountains whiten the sky with 
their thick mantles of snow. During the very hot months— 
that is, from the beginning of May to the close of August— 
no rain falls, and the air is then felt to be painfully oppressive 
by the European, except near the coast, where the high tern- 


INTRODUCTION. 


459 


perature is relieved by the sea-breezes. During this long 
interval the morning breaks, and the noon glows, and the day 
declines with a sky almost wholly free from clouds, or, at 
least, only relieved all over its monotonous azure by a few 
feathery streaks of snowy luster. The thin grass and the 
aromatic shrubs which then cover the face of the land wither 
and die away, blighted by the fierce, incessant sunshine. 
Men go to and fro weary and exhausted, longing for “a 
shadow in the daytime from the heat,” for “ the shadow of a 
great rock in a weary land.” How pleasantly upon the ear 
falls the murmur of a running stream; how grateful to the 
eye is the shade of the far-sweeping cedar! We look toward 
the scattered vineyards with feelings of peculiar delight; with 
wistful gaze we survey the far-off fields of green millet, 
watered by the husbandman’s care, or the occasional groves 
of fig-trees, olives, and pomegranates. 

Day by day the land grows drier, more parched, more 
barren. It seems as if the soil would be utterly burned up 
and desolated, when lo! in the south arises a cloud not bigger 
than a man’s hand, which gradually enlarges—is swollen by 
other clouds—and at length, toward the middle of Septem¬ 
ber, descends upon the thirsty earth in abundant showers. 
Then all nature seems to undergo a sudden transformation ! 
The change which takes place is, in truth, almost miraculous. 
From the highlands come rushing down a thousand living 
waters, which, uniting in their onward course, swell into vari¬ 
ous streams of considerable force and volume, replenishing 
the exhausted rivers, and spreading all around them a genial 
beauty. Swiftly glides over the gladdened earth a mantle of 
fresh bright verdure; by the wayside or in the clefts of the rocks, 
a gay sweet world of verbenas, ranunculuses, and other flowers, 
springs into living vigor; light emerald leaflets may be seen 
to bud on the dark boughs of the laurel and the myrtle; tall 
thistles, with grand clusters of purple blossoms, embellish 
every crevice and cranny; the junipers deck themselves 


460 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


with rare ornaments of white and yellow flowers, and the 
air breathes the delicate fragrance of the jasmine and the 
hawthorn. It is at this delightful season of the year that the 
poet’s words may be justly applied to the scenes we have 
attempted to describe. It is then that 

“ Mildly dimpling, Ocean’s cheek 
Keflects the tint of many a peak 
Caught by the laughing tides that lave 
This Eden of the western wave ! 

And if at times a transient breeze 
Break the blue crystal of the seas, 

Or sweep one blossom from the trees, 

How welcome is each gentle air 
That wakes and wafts the odors there !” 

There is something in the scenery of this part of Asia Minor, 
something in the habits of the people and in every object one 
meets, that distinguishes them from all other regions of the 
earth. The sun is brighter and the air more balsamic than 
even in Italy or Sicily—the mountains are far more sublime 
—the plains generally vaster—the rivers more picturesque— 
the forests wear a more religious gloom—the wild flowers are 
more numerous, are more dazzling in color, of a richer fra¬ 
grance and a larger growth. The solitude is more intense. 
The voice of the Moslem priest (the Muezzin) from the ar¬ 
rowy minaret, touches the ear and the heart more tenderly, 
more exquisitely even than the sound of the “ Ave Maria” at 
twilight in the villages of Spain, or our own sweet evening- 
bells as they chime over the quiet plain and echo through the 
silent vale. And if at that “ pensive tide” the wayfarer reach 
a remote town or a hamlet in the waste, the sight of women 
drawing water at the fountains, or sitting down by the mouths 
of the wells that are always found at the entrance of every 
town and village, realizes to his mind the scenes of Scripture, 
and recalls the days when our blessed Saviour, then Himself 
a. weary wayfarer and athirst, took His seat by the side of 
Jacob’s Well, near the city of Sychar, and spoke to the won- 


INTRODUCTION. 


461 


dering Samaritan woman of that u well of water springing up 
into everlasting life,” of which those who have once drunk 
“ shall never thirst.” 


The vegetation of the Mediterranean coast of Asia Minor 
resembles that of Syria and southern Greece. Its river banks 
and its delightful valleys are clothed with the olive and the 



ASIA. 


vine, the myrtle and the laurel, the terebinth or turpentine 
tree, the mastic and the tamarind. Here,, too, flourishes al¬ 
most every variety of fruit tree ; the walnut, the apricot, the 
plum, and the cherry growing in complete forests. The 
cherry derives its name from the town of Gerasus, in whose 
neighborhood it grows abundantly. The majestic plane is also 




462 


SEVEN CHURCHES OP ASIA. 


a native of Asia Minor; tlie oak, which produces the gall-nuts 
used by dyers, is found everywhere; and the mountain-sides 
are heavy with the dense shadows of the savin, the juniper, 
and the cypress. 

Little need be said of the animal kingdom as it exists in 
Asia Minor. The goats of Angora are celebrated for the 
length and fineness of their hair, which is generally of a milk- 
white color, and covers the whole body in long pendent spiral 
ringlets. They are short-legged, with black, spreading, and 
curiously twisted horns. The same district produces breeds 
of sheep, cats and rabbits, also distinguished for the peculiar 
silkiness of their hair. 

The horses, which are swift and strong, are supposed to 
have been introduced from Cappadocia. Sometimes the Syrian 
antelope ranges beyond Mount Taurus, and meets the ibex 
descending from the rocky heights of Caucasus. Well for 
them if they do not fall victims to the sudden attacks of the 
fierce enemies which still lurk in the mountainous districts— 
the wolf, the bear, the jackal and the hyena. 

The rivers of Asia Minor are numerous; most of them are 
famous in song, legend, or history ; but all are of inconsider¬ 
able volume. The largest flow into the Black Sea. 

Asia Minor contains a great many lakes which are desti¬ 
tute of all apparent outlets, and whose waters are more or less 
impregnated with salt. The largest is Lake Tazla, about 
thirty miles long, which shines in the distance like a vast* 
sheet of silver, owing to the saline crystals which fringe its 
shores and incrust its surface. 

The mountain system is connected with that of Armenia, 
and consists of two chains, one of which, stretching boldly 
along the northern coast, is united with the other, to the west 
of the Euphrates, by a third chain, the Argis Dagh, whose 
summits are crowned with diadems of eternal snow ; and of 
the grand southern range of Mount Taurus, which extends its 
numerous arms to the very shore of the Mediterranean. 


INTRODUCTION. 


463 


Such, then, are the general characters of Asia Minor—a 
country which, in the past history of the human race, has 
played no unimportant part. That portion of it which here 
concerns us is included in the Turkish province of Anatolia, 
and derives a special interest from its association with the 
Seven Cities where Christian Churches were planted by the 
Apostles of our Lord; the Seven Cities favored with the min¬ 
istrations of the Evangelist John; the Seven Cities, to 
whose communities of believers was addressed the Apocalyp¬ 
tic Epistle—the Book of Revelation. 

Before we enter upon a consideration of the rise and fall 
and present condition of those 
interesting places, it seems de¬ 
sirable, however, to say some¬ 
thing in reference to the 
remarkable epistle which was 
communicated to them, nearly 
eighteen hundred years ago, 
as a solemn message “from 
Him which is, and which was 
and which is to come, and 
from the seven Spirits which 
are before His throne.” 

There can be little doubt that it was written by the dis¬ 
ciple whom Jesus loved—John the Evangelist; and such is 
the direct testimony of the Fathers of the Christian Church. 
The evidence, says Dean Alford, is of the highest and most 
satisfactory kind; it was unanimous in very early times. 
It came, as he observes, from those who had known and 
heard St. John himself; it only began to be discredited at a 
later period by theologians who entertained doctrinal objec¬ 
tions to the book. The doubt was taken up by critics, who 
looked upon the language as differing in style and character 
from that of St. John’s Gospel; but no real, substantial 
counter-claimant was ever produced, and the spirit which 



ALMOND TREE. 


464 


SEVEN CHURCHES OP ASIA. 


breathes in every line is that of the tender-sonled and earnest- 
ly-affectionate Apostle. 

The next consideration is—When and where was it 
written ? 

On the latter point we have the testimony of St. John him¬ 
self, who distinctly declares that he was favored with the 
apocalyptic visions during his sojourn in Patmos. 

Patmos is a small rugged island off the south-western coast 
of Asia Minor—one of a numerous group called the Sporades. 
It is a mass of barren rock, about fifteen or sixteen miles in 
circuit, with a bold, precipitous coast, broken up by head¬ 
lands and bays. In the center it rises up in a lofty moun¬ 
tain, crowned by the little town of Patmos, with, midway, a 
natural grotto, which tradition reports to have been the scene 
of St. John’s apocalyptic visions. 

It is said that the Apostle was banished here during the 
persecution of the Christians which took place in the reign of 
the Roman Emperor Domitian—that is, about 95 or 96 -A D. 

The Book of Revelation opens with these words: “ John to 
the Seven Churches which are in Asia.” By the expression 
“in Asia,” however, we are not to understand the great 
Eastern continent now designated by that name, of which a 
very considerable area was not even known to the ancient 
world in the time of John ; nor even that more limited region 
which since the fourth century has been known as Asia 
Minor, or Lesser Asia ; but simply the narrow strip of land 
lying oh the western coast, of which we have already spoken. 
This had originally been settled by Greek colonists, and their 
descendants exhibited a refinement and a mental cultivation 
of truly Greek character, such as no other Asiatic people ever 
attained. 

In this narrow but favored territory many Christian 
Churches were planted by Christ’s Apostles at an early period 
after His ascension. St. John’s epistle, as inspired by “ Him 
who was, and is, and is to come,” was addressed only to seve~> 


INTRODUCTION. 


4G5 


of these. Surely for this limitation—for this choice of the 
number “seven”—some special reason existed. 

Well, in the first place, we may call the reader’s attention 
to the curious repetition of sevens which occurs in the Apoca¬ 
lypse. For instance we meet with the seven Spirits (ch. i.4); 
the seven candlesticks (ch. i. 12); the seven stars (ch. i. 16); 
the seven lamps of fire (ch. iv. 5); the seven seals (ch. v. 1); 
the seven horns and seven eyes of the Lamb (ch. v. 6); the 
seven heavenly angels and the seven trumpets (ch. viii. 2); 
the seven thunders (ch. x. 3): the seven heads of the dragon, 
and the seven crowns upon those heads (ch. xii. 3); the same 
of the beast rising out of the sea (ch. xiii. 1); the seven last 
plagues (ch. xv. 1); the seven vials (ch. xv. 7); the seven 
mountains (ch. xvii. 9); and the seven kings (ch. xvii. 10). 
In the same manner we find this number running through 
the whole of Scripture, from first to last, so as to impress our 
minds with a sense of its mystic value and symbolic purport, 
though we are unable to say, with absolute certainty, why 
God has invested it with so much sacredness. 

We may venture to regard it, however, as the covenant 
number—the sign and signature of God’s covenant relation to 
man, and especially to that portion of mankind attached to 
Him by the ties of love and duty—the Christian Church. 

“ The evidences of this,” says Archbishop Trench, “ reach 
back to the very beginning. We meet them first in the hal¬ 
lowing of the seventh day, in pledge and token of the cove¬ 
nant of God with man (Gen.ii. 3), as indeed in the very bind¬ 
ing up of seven in the very word Sabbath.Nor should 

it be left unnoticed that the word seven is again bound up in 
the Hebrew word signifying an oath, or a covenant confirmed 
with an oath. Seven is the number of sacrifice, by aid of 
which the covenant, once established, is continually main¬ 
tained in its first vigor and strength, and the relations be¬ 
tween God and man, which sin is evermore disturbing and 
threatening to bring to an end, are restored (2 Chron. xxix. 
30 



466 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


21; Jobxlii. 8; compare Num. xxiii. 1, 14, 29). It is the 
number of purification and consecration, as the fruits of the 
sacrifice (Lev. iv. 6, 17; viii. 11, 83; xiv. 7, 51; xvi. 14,19; 
Num. xix. 12, 19); and of forgiveness (Matt, xviii. 21, 22 ; 
Luke xvii. 4). Then, again, seven is the number of every 
grace and benefit bestowed upon Israel, which is thus marked 
as flowing out of the covenant, and a consequence of it. The 
priests compass Jericho seven days, and on the seventh day 
seven times, that all Israel may know the city is given into 
their hands by their God, and that its conquest is a direct 
and immediate result of their covenant relation to him (Joshua 
vi. 4, 15, 16.) Naaman is to dip in Jordan seven times, that 
he may acknowledge the God of Israel the author of his cure 
(2 Kings v. 10). It is the number of reward to those that 

are faithful in the cove¬ 
nant (Deut. xxviii. 7; 1 
Sam. ii. 5); of punish¬ 
ment to those who are 
froward in the covenant 
(Lev. xxvi. 21, 24,28); or 

c plows, *c„ ,N ASIA minor, to those who injure the 

people in it. All the priests, as must be obvious 

to every one, are ordered by seven, or else by seven multi¬ 
plied into seven (7 X 7), and thus made intenser still. Thus 
it is, not to recur again to Sabbath, the mother of all feasts, 
with the Passover, (Exod. xii. 15, 16), the Feast of Weeks 
(Deut. xvi. 9), of Tabernacles (Deut. xvi. 13, 15), the Sabbath- 
year (Lev. xxv. 2-4; Deut. xv. 1), and the Jubilee (Lev. 
xxv. 8, 9).” 

As we have hinted, we cannot say with absolute certainty 
why the number seven has been invested with such evi¬ 
dent sacredness, and in all such speculations it is well for us 
to bear in mind the warning of witty Thomas Fuller, that, in 
respect to the significance of number, “ fancy is never at a 
loss, like a beggar never out of his way, but hath some 









INTRODUCTION. 


467 


haunts where to repose itself. But such as, in expounding 
of Scripture, reap more than God did sow there, never eat 
what they reap thence, because such grainless husks, when 
seriously threshed out, vanish all into chaff.” Yet we may 
point out the fact that the number seven results from the 
combination of what we may call the divine and human num¬ 
bers, three and four ; “three” being the special signature of 
God, as in the ever-blessed Trinity; and “four,” of the 
world, as in the four winds, the four elements, the four sea¬ 
sons, and the four corners of the earth. (Isa. xi. 12.) 

We see, therefore, abundant reason why the Apocalyptic 
Epistle should be addressed to seven churches ; and we may 
infer as the number seven is universal in its application, so 
do the Seven Churches represent as a whole the Universal 
Church. They embody the different characters which go to 
make up that Church, and are dependent one upon another 
for fullness of meaning; showing us, as a whole, “ the great 
and leading aspects, moral and spiritual, which churches, 
gathered out from the world in the name of Christ, will 
assume.” 

Thus, then, we meet, as we read the second and third chap¬ 
ters of the Book of Kevelation, with (to adopt the words of 
Archbishop Trench) a church face to face with danger and 
death (Smyrna); and a church at ease, declining into sinful 
lethargy (Sardis); a church with abundant means and loud 
profession, yet doing little or nothing for the furtherance of 
the truth (Laodicea); and a church with little strength and 
little power, yet accomplishing a mighty work for Christ 
(Philadelphia); a church intolerant of error in doctrine, yet 
possessing too little of that love toward its Lord for which 
nothing else is a substitute (Ephesus); and, as opposed to 
this, a church not careful or zealous, as it ought to be, for 
doctrinal purity, but diligent in the work and ministry of 
love (Thyatira). Or, if we look at the same churches from 
another point of view, we see a church in hot conflict with 


468 


SEVEN CHURCHES OP ASIA. 


heathenism—the sinful freedom of the flesh (Ephesus); and 
a church, or churches, battling against Jewish superstition— 
the sinful bondage of the soul (Pergamos and Philadelphia); 
or, considering the indolence of man a still more perilous 
case, churches with no lively forms of opposition to the 
truth agitating their depths, and while re-invigorating their 
energies, and inspiring them to defend the endangered truth, 
causing them, by that very act, to know and love it better 
(Sardis and Laodicea). 




EPHESUS 


Ruins of the City—Magnificence of Ancient Ephesus—Temple of Diana— 
Sculptures of Praxiteles—Painting of Alexander by Apelles—Visit of 
St. Paul—The Artisans raise a Tumult—Paul Departs—The Ministra¬ 
tions of St. John—Ephesus Captured by the Turks—Epistle to this 
Church—The Stadium—The Theater—Prison of St. Paul—Burning of 
the Temple—To Rebuild it the Ladies give their Jewelry—Laid waste 
by the Goths. 

Our attention will now be directed to tbe historical and 
topographical associations of the Seven Churches, and first 
to that of Ephesus, which claims as its peculiar honor to 
have been founded by Paul, the great Apostle of the Gentiles, 
who ministered to its converts in the years 55 and 56, and 
addressed to them one of his most remarkable epistles. 

What would have been the astonishment and grief of the 
“ beloved apostle” and Timothy if they could have foreseen that 
a time would come when there would be in Ephesus neither 
angel, nor church, nor city—when the great city would be¬ 
come “ heaps, a desolation, a dry land, and a wilderness; a 
land wherein no man dwelleth, neither doth any son of man 
pass thereby.” Once it ha d Christian temples, almost rival¬ 
ing the Pagan in splendor, wherein the image that fell from 
Jupiter lay prostrate before the Cross; and as many tongues, 
moved by the Holy Ghost, made public avowal that “ Great 
is the Lord Jesus! ” Once it had as the “angelof the church,” 
Timothy, the disciple of St. John; and tradition reports that 
it was honored with the last days of both these great men, 
and of the mother of our Lord. 

Some centuries passed on, and tile altars of Jesus were 
thrown down to make way for the delusions of Mohammed ; 
the Cross is removed from the dome of the church, and the 
Crescent glitters in its stead. 



472 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


A few years more, and all may be silence in the mosque 
and the church. A few unintelligible heaps of stones, with 
some mud cottages, untenanted, are all the remains of the 
great city of the Ephesians. The busy hum of a mighty 
population is silent in death. “ Thy riches, and thy fairs, 
thy merchandise, thy mariners, and thy pilots, thy calkers, 
and the occupiers of thy merchandise, and all thy men of 
war are fallen.” Even the sea has retired from the scene of 
desolation, and a pestilential morass, covered with mud and 



SITE OF EPHESUS. 


rushes, has succeeded to the waters which brought up the 
ships laden with merchandise from every country. 

Ancient Ephesus, which excelled even Smyrna in wealth 
and magnificence, was situated near the mouth of the river 
Cayster, embosomed in groves and gardens, and sheltered by 
the shadows of encircling mountains. Attracted by the love¬ 
liness of the spot, the Ionians, upward of one thousand years 
before the birth of our Lord, founded a city there, which 
grew with a marvelous growth. It was speedily celebrated 
throughout Asia for its palaces, its marts, and its temples, 
and especially for the splendid edifice raised in honor of 
Diana, or Artemis, the goddess of the moon. The history 
of this temple was singular; for no less than seven times 





EPHESUS. 


m 


was it destroyed, and seven times rebuilt with increased splen¬ 
dor. In the third century before Christ, it was restored on a 
scale of surprising magnificence. It measured 425 feet in 
length, by 220 feet in breadth. Of the marble columns which 
adorned it, and were each 60 feet in height, one hundred 
and twenty-seven were donations from kings and princes. 
Thirty-six were cunningly carved by the most skillful work¬ 
men. The folding-doors were of cypress-wood, which had 
been treasured up for four generations, and highly pol¬ 
ished ; the ceiling was of cedar; and the steps which led up 
to the roof were wrought from the giant stem of a single vine. 
The altar was enriched with the masterly sculptures of Prax¬ 
iteles, one of the greatest of the great Greek artists ; and its 
ornaments in gold and silver excited the wonder of all be¬ 
holders. Among the offerings was a picture by the famous 
painter Apelles, representing Alexander the Great armed with 
the thunder-bolt, and worth, it was said, no less than $19,000. 
Yery proud were the heathen of this gorgeous edifice, and 
very confident that it would endure for ages. It was, how¬ 
ever, but short-lived. It was first plundered by the Eoman 
Emperor Hero, who carried off an immense booty in gold and 
silver ; and afterward by the Goths, who reduced it to a mass 
of ruins. 

Here were practiced the superstitious and deceitful arts of 
magic, by a succession of priests called Megdbyzae,. trained to 
cheat and delude the populace. A vast concourse of strangers, 
accordingly, was ever sweeping toward a city presenting such 
remarkable attractions to the ignorant and credulous, and 
Ephesus continued to increase in wealth as in luxury. Her 
harbor was thronged with ships; gay crowds flashed through 
her splendid streets; and everywhere went up the jubilant 
cry of “Great is Diana of the Ephesians.” 

It was on his third famous journey that St. Paul first visi¬ 
ted this licentious but magnificent city, which was then the 
mercantile capital of Asia Minor (Acts xvii. 19-21). On a 


SEVEN CHURCHES OP ASIA. 


m 

second visit, lie found there a prosperous colony of Jews, and 
among them some who had heard the teaching of John the 
Baptist or his disciples, and a few who had even received his 
baptism. The latter willingly listened to Paul’s discourses ; 
to the number of twelve, they “ received the Holy Ghost ” ; 
others afterward embraced the “ glad tidings ”; and taking 
possession of a school belonging to a person named Tyrannus, 
they set up a Christian church—a distinct and independent 
place of Divine worship. 

Paul continued to reside in Ephesus for two years, and the 



THEATER OF EPHESUS. 


progress of Christianity during this period was greatly accel¬ 
erated by the wonderful cures he effected (Acts xix. 11, 12). 
The necromancers and the Jewish priests, waxing jealous of 
his extraordinary success, endeavored to counteract it by re¬ 
sorting to magical practices. They pretended to exorcise evil 
spirits. But one of the unhappy victims on whom they tried 
their experiments turned against them, assaulted them with 
considerable violence, and drove them naked and wounded 
out of his house (Acts xix. 16). 







EPHESUS. 


475 


This extraordinary event, says Dean Milman, was not only 
fatal to the pretensions of the Jewish exorcists, but at once 
seemed to put to shame all who believed and all who prac¬ 
ticed magical arts, and the manufacturers of spells and talis¬ 
mans. Multitudes eagerly came forward and gave up to the 
flames their charms, their amulets, their images of Diana, and 
their magical books, in such quantities, that their total value* 
was computed at 50,000 pieces of silver, or about $7,000 of 
our money (Acts xix. 17-19). 

The established religion was necessarily shaken in repute 
by these events, and many of the craftsmen, who depended 
upon it for their subsistence, grew alarmed at the rapid in¬ 
crease of Christianity. The Temple of Ephesus, as we have 
said, was regarded as one of the wonders of the world, and 
constantly visited by strangers, who lavished liberal offerings 
at its altar. A common article of trade was a model or shrine 
of silver, representing this famous structure, which was either 
preserved as a memorial, or supposed to be endowed with 
some rare talismanic power. The sale of these works largely 
fell off, and the artisans, instigated by a certain Demetrius, 
raised a violent popular tumult, and caused it to be spread 
abroad among the Greeks that the worship of Diana was in 
danger. Then was there a hurrying to and fro; men with 
inflamed faces gathered at the corners of the streets; weapons 
were drawn; from mouth to mouth passed the signal, “Great 
is Diana of the Ephesians”; and the enraged populace eddied 
and swayed toward the public theater, dragging with them 
two of Paul’s companions. The Apostle himself would fain 
have descended into their midst, and boldly confronted them, 
but was restrained by the prudence of his friends (Acts xix. 
30); and after the tumult was ended, seems to have been ad¬ 
vised to.leave the excited city, and continue his travels in 
Macedonia and Greece. 

After Paul’s departure, the Christian Church continued for 
awhile to thrive, and at one time enjoyed the high honor of 


4*70 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


receiving the ministrations of St. John. There is a tradition 
—so pleasing we could wish it to be better founded—that 
when he grew too feeble from age to utter any long discourse, 
his failing voice dwelt on a brief exhortation to mutual 
charity. Ilis whole sermon was comprised in this memora¬ 
ble injunction, “Little children, love one another and when 
his audience complained of what they thought a wearisome 
repetition, he declared that in those golden words was con 
tained a truth sufficient for their meditation. 



ACROPOLIS. 


The banishment of the Apostle to the rocky solitudes of 
Patmos may probably have originated in a local disturbance 
at Ephesus. 

After this event the Church would seem in some measure 
to have declined from the high standard of its early faith, and 
the venerable Apostle, inspired by his Divine Master, addressed 
its angel, or minister, in words breathing the most earnest 
devotion: 

“I know % works, and thy labor, and thy patience, and 








EPHESUS. 


477 

liow thou canst not bear them which are evil: and thou hast 
tried them which say they are Apostles, and are not, and hast 
found them liars: and hast borne, and hast patience, and for 
my name’s sake hast labored, and hast not fainted. Never¬ 
theless I have somewhat against thee, because thou hast left 
thy first love. Remember, therefore, from whence thou art 
fallen, and repent, and do the first works; or else I will come 
unto thee quickly, and will remove thy candlestick out of his 
place, except thou repent.” (Rev. ii. 2-5). 

In the eleventh century Ephesus was captured and razed 
to the ground by the Turks, and its present condition is a 
strange and startling contrast to its ancient pride of place. 
The sea has receded from its original margin; what was once 
a busy harbor is now a dreary and desolate marsh; and the 
former extent of the city can only be traced by a solitary watch- 
tower, and some fragments of masonry on the grassy hill. Part 
of its site is now a plowed field. When night descends, the 
mournful cry of the jackal resounds where formerly arose the 
hum of men, and the night-hawk and the owl haunt the scanty 
memorials of departed greatness. Of its Temple of Diana not 
a trace is extant. There remain, indeed, considerable ruins 
of the theater, which was connected with so memorable an 
event in Paul’s history. A miserable Turkish village, called 
Aiasaluk, is also situated some distance inland; and these are 
all the signs the stranger can discover of the once splendid 
seat of pagan worship. 

The Ephesians themselves are now, as a traveler tells us, a 
few Greek peasants, living in extreme wretchedness, despond¬ 
ence, and insensibility—the representatives of an illustrious 
people, dwelling among the ruins of their former greatness. 
Some have raised their huts on the foundations of once glo¬ 
rious edifices; some lurk beneath in the vaults of the Stadium 
(or amphitheater), 687 feet in length ; and some hide their 
poverty in the sepulchers which received the ashes of their 
prosperous ancestors. “We employed a couple of them,” 


478 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


says Dr. Chandler, “ to pile stones, to serve instead of a lad¬ 
der, at the arch of the Stadium, and to clear a pedestal of a 
portico of the theater from rubbish. We had occasion for 
another to dig at the Corinthian temple, and sending to the 
Stadium, the whole tribe, ten or twelve, followed, one playing 
all the way before them on a rude lyre, and at times striking 
the sounding-board with the fingers of his left hand, in con¬ 
cert with the strings. One of them had on a pair of sandals 
of goat-skin, laced with thongs, and not uncommon. After 
gratifying their curiosity, they returned back as they came, 
with their musician in front. Such are the present citizens 
of Ephesus; and such is the condition to which that renowned 
city has been gradually reduced. Its streets are obscured and 
overgrown. A herd of goats was driven to it for shelter 
from the sun at noon, and a noisy flight of crows from the 
quarries seemed to insult its silence.” 

It is “a solemn and most forlorn spot”; and in the shadows 
of the deep night, when the mournful cry of the jackal re¬ 
sounds from the mountain, and the night-hawk and shriek- 
owl hover among the ruins, the scene impresses the traveler 
with a painful emotion, until he remembers that, transitory 
as are the pleasures and glories of this present world, the hap¬ 
piness and beauty and joy of the world to come will be, like 
the power and wisdom of God, eternal! 

As we think of the past and present condition of this seat 
of primitive Christianity our minds are naturally occupied 
with the epistle addressed to the angel of this church. It 
teaches us that it is possible to exhibit some brilliant parts 
of the Christian character, and to be distinguished for labor, 
perseverance, and for other very excellent qualities, and yet 
to have a fatal malady commencing its attacks upon us which 
threatens the very ruin of all our hopes .—Nevertheless I have 
somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thy first love! 
(Rev. ii. 4.) How few are there, who do not feel the charge 
too applicable to themselves! But unless we call to remem- 


EPHESUS. 


m 

brance the station from whence we are fallen, and repent and do 
the first works , that intimation of the Divine displeasure which 
is here given will not fail to be accomplished—“I will come 
unto thee quickly, and will remove thy candlestick out of his 
place, except thou repent.” (Rev. ii. 5.) The neglect of such 
an admonition, in the case of an individual, would involve 
consequences analogous to those which are more peculiarly 
threatened against a whole community; but when an entire 
body of Christians, when a Christian church becomes guilty 
of this sin, the indignation of God is exhibited in the face of 
the world. At Ephesus, we find at present, only one indi¬ 
vidual who bears the name of Christ I And where, in the whole 
region, do we discover any semblance of primitive Chris¬ 
tianity ? The country once favored with the presence of St. 
Paul, of Timothy, and St. John, is now in the situation of those 
lands of which it is said, Darkness covers the earth , and gross 
darkness the people (Isa. lx. 2); he ) then, that hath an ear , let 
him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches. (Rev. ii. 17.) 

The city originally stood on the slope of Corissus; but 
gradually it descended into the plain, in the direction of the 
Temple of Diana. The Alexandrian age produced a marked 
alteration in Ephesus, as in most of the great towns of the 
East; and Lysimachus extended the city over the summit of 
Prion, as well as the heights of Corissus. The Roman age 
saw, doubtless, a still further increase both of the size and 
magnificence of the place. To attempt to reconstruct it from 
the materials which remain, would be a difficult task—far 
more difficult than in the case of Athens or even Antioch; 
but some of the more interesting sites are easily identified. 
Those who walk over the desolate site of the Asiatic metropo¬ 
lis, see piles of ruined edifices on the rocky sides and among 
the thickets of Mount Prion: they look out from its summit 
over the confused morass which was once the harbor, where 
Aquila and Priscilla landed; and they visit in its deep 
recesses the dripping marble quarries, where the marks of 


480 


SEVEN CHURCHES OP ASIA. 


the tools are visible still. On the outer edge of the same hill 
they trace the enclosure of the Stadium, which may have sug¬ 
gested to St. Paul many of those images with which he en¬ 
forces Christian duty, in the first letter written from Ephesus 
to Corinth. Farther on, and near Corissus, the remains of 
the vast theater (the outline of the enclosure is still distinct, 
though the marblp seats are removed) show the place where 
the multitude, roused by Demetrius, shouted out for two 
hours, in honor of Diana. Below is the Agora, through 
which the mob rushed up to the well-known place of meeting. 
And in the valley between Prion and Corissus is one of the 
gymnasia, where the athletes were trained for transient honors 
and a perishable garland. Surrounding and crowning the 
scene, are the long Hellenic walls of Lysimachus, following 
the ridge of Corissus. On a spur of the hill, they descend to 
an ancient tower, which is still called the Prison of St. Paul. 
The name is, doubtless, legendary; but St. Paul may have 
stood here, and looked over the city and the plain, and seen 
the Cayster winding toward him from the base of the preci¬ 
pice of Gallesus. Within his view was another eminence, 
detached from the city of that day, but which became the 
Mohammedan town when ancient Ephesus was destroyed, and 
nevertheless preserves in its name a record of another apostle 
the “ disciple ” St. John. 

The Temple of Diana glittered in brilliant beauty at the 
head of the harbor, and was reckoned by the ancients as one 
of the wonders of the world. The sun, it was said, saw 
nothing in its course more magnificent than Diana’s temple. 
Its honor dated from a remote antiquity. Leaving out of con¬ 
sideration the earliest temple, which was contemporaneous ^ 
with the Athenian colony under Androclus, or even yet more 
ancient, we find the great edifice, which was anterior to the 
Macedonian period, begun and continued in the midst of the 
attention and admiration both of Greeks and Asiatics. The 
foundations were carefully laid, with immense substructions, 


EPHESUS. 


481 


in the marshy ground. Architects of the highest distinction 
were employed. The quarries of Mount Prion supplied the 
marble. All the Greek cities of Asia contributed to the 
structure; and Croesus, the king of Lydia, himself lent his 
aid. The work thus begun before the Persian war, was slowly 
continued even through the Peloponnesian war, and its dedb 
cation was celebrated by a poet contemporary with Euripides, 
But the building, which had been thus rising through the 
space of many years, was not destined to remain long in the 
beauty of its perfection. The fanatic Herostratus set fire to 
it on the same night in which Alexander was born. This is 
one of the coincidences of history, on which the ancient world 
was fond of dwelling; and it enables us, with, more distinct¬ 
ness, to pursue the annals of “ Diana of the Ephesians.” The 
temple was rebuilt with new and more sumptuous magnifi¬ 
cence. The ladies of Ephesus contributed their jewelry to 
the expense of the restoration. The national pride in the 
sanctuary was so great, that, when Alexander offered the 
spoils of his Eastern campaign if he might inscribe his name 
on the building, the honor was declined. The Ephesians 
never ceased to embellish the shrine of their goddess, continu¬ 
ally adding new decorations and subsidiary buildings, with 
statues and pictures by the most famous artists. This was 
the temple that kindled the enthusiasm of St. Paul’s oppo¬ 
nents (Acts xix.), and was still the rallying-point of heathen¬ 
ism in the days of St. John and Polycarp. In the second 
century, we read, it was united to the city by a long colon¬ 
nade. But soon afterward it was plundered and laid waste 
by the Goths, who came from beyond the Danube in the reign 
of Gallienus. It sunk entirely into decay in the age when 
Christianity was overspreading the empire ; and its remains 
are to be sought for in mediaeval buildings, in the columns of 
green jasper which support the dome of St. Sophia, or even 
in the naves of Italian cathedrals. 

31 


482 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


In closing this brief account of the first of the seven 
churches, we may remind our readers that the same inti¬ 
mate knowledge which our Lord possessed of the Ephesian 
church He now possesses in regard to each one of us. While 
warning us against the dangerous consequences of our sins, He 
yet knows and approves our virtues. There is not one ad¬ 
vancing effort which we have made in the way of holiness, not 
a sinful gratification which we have foregone, not an evil habit, 
or person, or thing, from which we have separated, or a labor 
of love which we have performed for His names sake, of which 
He does not as distinctly say to us as in former times to the 
church of Ephesus, “ I know it, and know it with approba¬ 
tion,” for this is the meaning of the Scripture phrase. The 
gracious Redeemer knows our attempts at holy living as the 
sincere though feeble efforts of children anxious to manifest 
their love, and gratitude, and obedience to an indulgent father; 
and He delights in every work of charity or kindness, as He 
once did in the offering of the woman in Bethany which 
rejoiced His heart and received His commendation, because 
having been forgiven much she loved much, and it could with 
justice be said of her, “She hath done what she could.” 
Warned, therefore, by the message to this ancient church, let 
us also be encouraged to persevere in good works, knowing 
that our “ labor shall not be in vain in the Lord,” and that 
thus we shall escape the condemnation which came upon the 
earlier disciples of Christ. 


SMYRNA. 


Still a large City—Mingling of Many Nations—Caravan Bridge—Large 
Commerce—Antiquity of the City— 4< The Crown of Life ”—Polycarp 
—His Arrest—A Voice from Heaven—The Trial—Prayer of the Patri¬ 
arch—Bound to the Stake—His Death—The Plague—Women of 
Smyrna—The Modern City—The Bay—The Old Fortress—The Moun¬ 
tains—Martyrdom of a Greek Christian. 

One of the fairest cities of Asia Minor, and second in im¬ 
portance of the Seven Churches, is Smyrna ; beautifully situ¬ 
ated at the head of a gulf of the Archipelago—its shining 
walls and glittering terraces partly extending along the vine- 
clad shore, and partly stretching up the gentle slope of Mount 
Pagus, whose summit is crowned by a ruined citadel. 

¥e suppose it now contains a population of about 150,000 
inhabitants. But these are not all Turks or Mohammedans ; 
at least one-half are Greeks, Armenians, Jews and Euro¬ 
peans. For this reason the Turks contemptuously call it 
“ Izmir the infidel ” ; though sometimes, when they think of 
its groves and gardens, its orchards and vineyards, its rich 
verdant terraces and its deep blue sea, they are constrained 
to acknowledge it is “ Izmir the lovely.” 

An eloquent writer says: 

“You are here surrounded by the people and the confused 
customs of many and various nations—you see the fussy 
European adopting the East, and calming his restlessness 
with the long Turkish ‘ pipe of tranquillity ’—you see Jews 
offering services and receiving blows—on one side you have 
a fellow whose dress and beard would give you a good idea 
of the true Oriental, if it were not for the silly expression of 
countenance with which he is swallowing an article in a 
French newspaper—and there, just by, is a genuine ‘Osman- 



486 


SEVEN CHURCHES OP ASIA. 


lee,’ or Turk, smoking away with all the majesty of a sultan.” 

The bridge across the Meles, known as Pont Caravan, or 
the Caravan Bridge, is one of the most interesting spots in 
modern Smyrna, from the number of persons who there as¬ 
semble, and take refreshments under the shade of the cagi- 
net trees. The scene, says Mr. Arundell, is a showy one, 
from the variety of head ornaments—the Turkish, Xebeque, 
and Greek turbans, the Armenian cardinal-looking red and 



VIEW OF SMYRNA. 

black cap, the Jewish blue conical cap with the modest pen¬ 
cil-lined handkerchief wreathed around it—and last, but most 
conspicuous, the dignified Frank hat. The bridge is the 
principal approach of the town for caravans, travelers, and 
the peasants from the surrounding country. 

The Greeks of Smyrna are not less indolent than their 
Turkish master; but if Greeks and Turks are idle, the 
Franks and Armenians are very active, and Smyrna continues 
at the present day to be the seat of no inconsiderable com¬ 
merce. Ships from England throng into its placid waters, 
loaded with the cotton and woollen goods and hosiery which 
are manufactured at Manchester, Leeds and Nottingham ; and, 








SMYRNA. 


487 


in return, they bring back cargoes of figs and raisins, silk, 
skins, a dye called madder, olive-oil, some valuable gums, 
and many important drugs. 

Smyrna is a very ancient city. Long before Borne or 
Athens attained any degree of prosperity, a colony was found¬ 
ed on its site by a people called the iEolians; which was 
afterward occupied by the Ionians, and as early as seven 
hundred years before Christ became a flourishing settlement. 
It was one of seven cities which claimed the honor of having 
been the birth-place of Homer, the great Greek poet, who 
sang of the Trojan war p and so convinced were its inhabitants 
of the justness of their pretensions, that they pointed out a 
cavern, near the spring of the little river Meles, as the place 
where he composed his wonderful poems. 

After flourishing for several hundred years, Smyrna was de¬ 
stroyed by a Lydian king, Alyattes, and its ruins lay abandoned 
to the jackal and the bittern, until after the conquest of Asia 
Minor by Alexander the Great. One of that mighty mon¬ 
arch’s successors, Antigonus, rebuilt the city, not on its 
original site, but two or three miles distant, close upon the 
sea-shore. Lysimachus, king of Macedonia, greatly enlarged 
and embellished it, erecting magnificent buildings, laying out 
beautiful gardens, and improving its fine harbor, which was 
soon recognized as one of the most famous in the Mediterra¬ 
nean. After the Bomans had extended their supremacy along 
the shores of Asia Minor and Syria, Smyrna still continued 
to prosper; and such was the renown of its wealth, that men 
called it “ The crown of Ionia,” and “ The jewel of Asia.” 

The Christian religion was introduced soon after the death 
of our Saviour, probably by one of the Apostles ; and it found 
so many to accept it with joyous confidence, that a church was 
regularly established. To the “angel,” or pastor, of this 
church, St. John wrote wise words of warning, counsel, and 
encouragement, from his retreat in the Isle of Patmos. Its 
members were not rich in this world’s goods, but rich in faith, 


488 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


and hope, and the assurance of immortal life. In the early 
days of Christianity, however, it was the poor and humble 
who opened their hearts to its glad tidings; not the wealthy, 
who shrank from a creed so simple and so austere; not the 
philosopher, who, in the arrogance of human self-sufficiency, 
pronounced it foolishness; not the powerful, who laughed to 
scorn the lowly disciples of the ISTazarene. 

“ I know thy works, and tribulation, and poverty,” writes 
St. John, recording the words of the Saviour, “ (but thou art 
rich) and I know the blasphemy of them which say that are 
Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan. Fear 
none of those things which thou shalt suffer: behold, the 
devil shall cast some of you into prison, that ye may be tried, 
and ye shall have tribulation ten days: be thou faithful unto 
death, and I will give thee a crown of life.” (Rev. ii. 9,. 10.) 

In the “ crown of life” reference is supposed to be made to 
a rite observed by the pagan inhabitants of the city. They 
were wont to present a crown to the priest who had superin¬ 
tended the worship of their gods, on the expiration of his 
term of office. Not such a crown as this, says St. John, will 
be given unto the faithful Christian ; but an infinitely more 
glorious one—an incorruptible crown—a crown of life. 

From the words of the Apostle, it is evident that the Church 
in Smyrna was exposed to severe persecution, both from the 
Jews and the heathen. At first, the Christians suffered im¬ 
prisonment only, or the loss of their little property; but un¬ 
der the Emperor Aurelius they were condemned to a far 
severer trial of their constancy. Those who refused to sacri¬ 
fice to the Roman gods were first scourged and then put to 
death. Among the earliest and most distinguished victims 
of this cruelty was the saintly Polycarp, the pupil of St. John, 
from whose lips he had often heard the wondrous tale of our 
Lord’s doings upon earth. 

When the Aurelian persecution began, his friends and dis¬ 
ciples persuaded him to retire from Smyrna into a neighbor- 


SMYRNA. 


489 


ing village. On tlie approach of the Roman officers, he 
retreated yet farther inland. His place of concealment, 
however, being betrayed by two slaves, from whom the 
agonies of the torture had extracted a confession, he exclaimed, 
“ The will of God be done,” ordered food to be prepared for 
the officers of justice, and requested time for prayer, in which 
he spent two hours. He was then conveyed to Smyrna, on a 
day when all the populace were assembled in the open Sta¬ 
dium, or race-course. As he entered upon the public scene, 



GROTTO OF THE NATIVITY. 


the excited devotion of the trembling Christian spectators 
thought that they heard a voice from heaven—“ Polycarp, be 
firm! ” The Roman proconsul entreated him, in respect to 
his great age—for he was in his ninetieth year—to conceal 
his name; but disregarding the threats of the angry multi¬ 
tude, he proclaimed aloud that he was Polycarp. His trial 
then proceeded. 

“ Swear,” cried his persecutors—“ swear by the Genius of 
Caesar; deny your false Christ, and say, ‘Away with the 
godless!’” 

The old man glanced compassionately upon the long rows 
of burning eyes and savage faces which glared upon him, and 








490 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


lifting his gaze to heaven, exclaimed, but with a different 
meaning to what the populace intended, “ Away, yes, away 
with the God- less /” 

The proconsul, anxious to spare his life, then urged him 
further: 

“ Swear, and I will release thee; blaspheme Christ.” 

“ For eighty years,” replied Poly carp, “have I served Je¬ 
sus, and He has never done me wrong ; how can I blaspheme 
my Saviour and my King ? ” 

The proconsul again commanded him to swear by the 
Genius of Caesar. Polycarp simply replied by declaring him¬ 
self a Christian, and by requesting a day to be appointed on 
which he might explain to the proconsul the pure and inno¬ 
cent doctrines of the Christian faith. 

“ Persuade the people to consent,” said the compassionate 
governor. 

“We owe respect to authority,” answered Polycarp, “ and 
therefore to thee I will explain the reasons of my conduct ; 
but to the people I will offer no explanation.” 

The old man (as Dean Milman observes) knew too well the 
ferocious passions raging in their minds, and how vain would 
have been any attempt to allay them by the rational argu¬ 
ments of Christianity. 

The proconsul threatened to expose him to the wild 
beasts. 

“ It is well,” said Polycarp; “ I shall then be speedily re¬ 
leased from this life of misery.” 

He threatened to burn him alive. 

“ I fear not the fire which burns only for a moment: thou 
knowest that which burns forever and ever!” 

A smile of radiant joy hovered on the venerable countenance 
of the Christian bishop as he made this reply; nor did he trem¬ 
ble when the herald advanced into the midst of the multitude, 
and thrice proclaimed— 

“ Polycarp has professed himself a Christian 1” 


SMYRNA. 


491 


The Jews and heathens responded with an overwhelming 
shout— 

“ This is the teacher of all Asia, the overthrower of our 
faith, who has perverted so many from sacrifice and the wor¬ 
ship of the Deity!” • 

They demanded of the Asiarch , or president of the games, 
that he should instantly expose Polycarp to the lions ; and he 
in vain endeavored to turn aside their fury by declaring that 
the public spectacles were over. But then a general cry arose 
that the Christian should be burned alive. The mob were 
active in collecting the fuel of the baths and other combusti¬ 
ble materials, to build up a hasty but spacious funeral pile. 
Poly carp was speedily unrobed, and as he requested not to be 
nailed to the stake, was only bound to it. 

The simple, earnest, and enthusiastic prayer which the 
aged bishop offered in this supreme moment will interest the 
reader: 

“ 0 Lord God Almighty, the Father of Thy well-beloved 
and ever-blessed Son Jesus Christ, by whom we have received 
the knowledge of Thee; the God of angels, powers, and of 
every creature, and of the whole race of the righteous who 
live before Thee; I thank Thee that Thou hast graciously 
thought me worthy of this day and this hour, that I may re¬ 
ceive a portion in the number of Thy martyrs, and drink of 
Christ’s cup, for the resurrection to eternal life, both of body 
and soul, in the incorruptibleness of the Holy Spirit; among 
whom may I be admitted this day, as a rich and acceptable 
sacrifice, as Thou, 0 faithful God, hast prepared, and fore¬ 
shown, and accomplished. Wherefore I praise Thee for all 
Thy mercies; I bless Thee, I glorify Thee, with the eternal 
and heavenly Jesus Christ, Thy beloved Son ; to whom, with 
Thee and the Holy Spirit, be glory # now and forever.” 

The fire was then kindled, but, according to an old tradi¬ 
tion, it failed to do its work. The flames rose curving like a 
rainbow round the serene victim, and gathering over the body 


492 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA 





t 


RUINS OF ANCIENT BOZRAH 


































































































































































































































































































































































































SMYRNA. 


493 


like a triumphal arch, left it uninjured. A Roman soldier 
was therefore ordered to despatch him. He pierced him to 
the heart with his spear, when blood poured forth so copiously, 
it was said, from the aged body as to extinguish the flames 
immediately about it. 

It was thus that Poly carp, as his Lord had foretold, won 
“ the crown of life.” 

His death, however, did not answer the aim proposed to 
themselves by his persecutors. Instead of Christianity being 
crushed, it flourished all the more abundantly, so that Smyrna 
soon became one of the principal strongholds of the new 
religion. 

And well was it for the Smyrniotes that among them lived 
the disciples of so pure and beneficent a faith. For it hap¬ 
pened, some years after, that their city was afflicted with a 
terrible earthquake. A generous sympathy was then dis¬ 
played toward them by those whom they had so bitterly 
persecuted, and by their Christian brethren in the neighbor¬ 
ing towns. Provisions were plentifully supplied; homes 
were offered to the houseless; the infirm and the children 
were conveyed in carriages from the scene of ruin. The 
Christians received the fugitives as if they had been of their 
own faith. Rich and poor nobly rivaled one another in 
charity. So great and so blessed was the influence of that 
Gospel which teaches us to regard all men as our brethren, 
and bids us cherish toward our neighbors a holy and self- 
denying love! 

An occasional and a terrible visitant of this fair city is 
the epidemic known as the plague—an epidemic even more 
virulent in character and fatal in its effects than cholera, 
which is so justly dreaded in our own country. Its causes are 
the want of cleanliness in the houses, streets and inhabitants; 
the neglect of the commonest sanitary precautions ; the pol¬ 
lutions which mingle with the waters used for drinking and 
lavatory purposes; and the sultry climate, unrelieved by 


494 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


rains or cooling winds, prevailing during the hot months. 
When the shadow of the Destroyer rests upon the doomed 
city, the European consuls and merchants retire into the 
country, or shut themselves up in their houses, admitting no 
one within their gates. Many of the citizens then abandon 
their dwellings, and live in the plains and on the mountain- 
slope under canvas; the islanders of the Levant return to 
their ocean-gardens; and silence reigns in the streets of the 
Frank quarter. But the Moslem, a fanatic believer in fate, 
and in the doctrine that human precautions avail nothing 
against the predestined course, of events, disdains to escape, 
or to use the commonest measures of security. The crier, 
from the mosque announces at certain hours the names of 
those who have been stricken down, and invites their friends 
to attend their remains to the grave. And these friends, 
disregarding the danger of infection, not only attend, but 
even wash the body before interment, and afterward carry it 
upon their shoulders, a change of bearers pressing forward at 
every ten or twenty yards to share in the last pious office. 

Dr. Chandler, the eminent traveler, also complains of the 
insect-plagues which infest Smyrna; namely, a minute fly, 
which irritates by its puncture, and, settling on the white 
wall, eludes its angry pursuer with almost incredible ac¬ 
tivity ; and the more formidable mosquitoes, which torment 
by their loud, incessant buzz, and by their attacks on the 
stranger’s skin, repeated until they are gorged with blood. 

When visiting the memorials of ancient greatness—the 
ruined palace, the shattered temple, and the broken statue— 
we are naturally impressed with a melancholy sense of the 
instability of earthly things and the vanity of human ambi¬ 
tion. We feel that however high we rear our “ cloudcapt 
towers,” and however solidly we lay their massive founda¬ 
tions, they are the mere playthings of time, which in a few 
generations will level them with the dust, and write upon 
them the epitaph, They once have been. At Smyrna this 


SMYRNA. 


495 


thought presses upon the mind of the traveler like an un¬ 
welcome visitor who will not be denied. Of the ancient city , 
scarcely a vestige remains. Of the exquisite treasures of art, 
collected here by the elegant genius of the Greeks, the most 
curious explorer can hardly discover a trace. Where are the 
broad streets, well-paved, and lined on either hand with mar¬ 
ble' colonnades, which once echoed with the murmur of song 
and the sound of commerce? Where are the stately palaces 
that formerly shone with gold and silver, with the master¬ 
pieces of the painter and the sculptor, with rich tapestry 
woven in skillful looms? Where are the temples, once 
enriched with the offerings of devout worshipers, and es¬ 
pecially that temple of the goddess Cybele, or Earth, which 
was hardly inferior in magnificence to that of the Ephesian 
Diana ? In these things men of old rejoiced and were 
proud, and yet they have been utterly swept away by the 
besom of destruction! 

There remain, however, a few memorials of interest. Near 
the western gateway lies a colossal marble head, the face 
much mutilated, but apparently of fine workmanship; it is 
said to be an ideal personi¬ 
fication of Smyrna; but 
Dr. Chandler thinks it a 



COINS OF EPHESUS AND SMYRNA. 


bust of Apollo, the god of 
poetry and the arts, and 
the impersonation of the 
sun. On a hill facing the north may be seen some few traces 
of the Stadium, where the holy Poly carp suffered; but it is 
stripped of its marble seats and decorations, and waves with 
green billows of corn. The martyr’s tomb, was situated, it 
is said, at the north-west corner; and what is supposed to 
be it is still pointed out. 

The public buildings erected by the Turks are composed 
of materials derived from the ruined city. The market and 
the governor’s palace were both constructed with the white 




496 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


marble of tlie theater. During the excavations that at dif¬ 
ferent times have been made here, numerous pedestals and 
statues, medals, and other works of art, have been brought 
to light; and no place, perhaps, has contributed more than 
Smyrna to enrich the collections of the curious in Europe 
with interesting memorials of antiquity. 

Let us turn from the past to the present, from the ancient 
to the modern city , which flourishes under the bright sun of 
Asia, and looks down on the blue waters of the Mediter¬ 
ranean, like a beautiful woman in the mirror which reflects 
her charms. It is famous, as we have already said, for its 
fruits, its vineyards, its orchards, and its olive groves. Its 
figs are also celebrated; its grapes are often found, while still 
hanging on the stalk, converted into raisins by the sun; its 
lemons, oranges, and citrons are abundant and delicious. The 
waters of its sheltered bay swarm with fish; its groves are 
peopled with doves, thrushes, quails, fieldfares and snipes. 
The Smyrna sheep are of a peculiar breed, and distinguished 
by broad tails which hang down like an apron, some weigh¬ 
ing eight or ten pounds, and upward. 

The Smyrniote women are a remarkably handsome race. 
Whether Frank, Greek, or Turkish, they all wear the Orien¬ 
tal dress, consisting of large trousers which reach to the 
ankle, long vests of rich silk or velvet, lined in winter with 
costly furs, and clasped round the waist by an embroidered 
girdle, with fastenings of silver or gold. Their plaited 
tresses are showered down the back in great profusion. The 
girls have sometimes about twenty of these, besides two or three 
bound round the head like a coronet, and adorned with flowers, 
jewels, pearls, or waving feathers. They are commonly 
stained of a chestnut color, which is much admired in Smyrna. 
Their apparel and bearing are alike antique, and they carry 
themselves with all the stately elegance of the Asiatics. They 
excel in a glow of color, as if the sun had ripened their cheeks 
into roses • and their eyes flash with a singular brightness. 


SMYRNA. 


497 


Travelers vie with each other in enthusiasm in describing 
modern Smyrna. 

“ The entrance into the gulf of Smyrna is one of the finest 
in the world. The harbor is bold and extensive; it is 
guarded by a large fort, standing about two miles from the 
harbor. The town of Smyrna extends along the greater 
part of the bay, and has the appearance of great commercial 
activity. Most of the houses are built of wood, and, with 
their balconies and somewhat European roofs, give an appear¬ 
ance to the town very unlike that of the Oriental towns and 
cities with which our eyes had been so long familiar. .... 

In various parts, even amidst the buildings, there are fine 
plantations of cypresses, with their feathery spires of dark 
green, surrounding the many places of sepulture, and throwing 
a solemn and somber shade over the otherwise animated scene. 
The town is flanked by noble ridges of bold rock and mountain, 
whose sweeping forms are as graceful as can be imagined ; and 
the town itself slopes down from a considerable distance to the 
brink of the bay. On the summit of the nearest and boldest 
mountain stands a castle of large dimensions—a noble object 
in the picture. The plains which surround the approaches to 
the harbor are profusely covered with vines, fig and olive 
trees, growing in full luxuriance. The season for preserving 
raisins and figs had commenced. Where we lay at anchor the 
harbor presented an entire circle of rock, island, and city ; and, 
the sunset was unspeakably superb. We had not been long 
at anchor ere numerous boats surrounded the vessel, laden> 
with fruits of various kinds, the produce of this far-famed 
spot; delicious grapes of extraordinary size and sweetness, 
melons, figs, pears, etc. Besides these refreshing productions, 
we were served with various preparations of ice.”— Fisk’s 
Pastor's Memorial. 

11 The first sight of Smyrna, especially when approached by 
sea, must produce a strong impression. It presents a picture 
of indescribable beauty. The heights of Mount Pagus and the • 
32 



498 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


plain beneath, covered with innumerable houses, the tiled 
roofs and painted balconies, the domes and minarets of 
' mosques glowing and glittering with the setting sun; the 
dark walls of the old fortress crowning the top of the moun¬ 
tain, and the still darker cypress groves below ; shipping of 
every form and country covering the bay beneath; flags of 
every nation waving on the ships of war and over the houses 
of the consuls; mountains on both sides of stupendous height 
and extraordinary outline . . . tinted with so strong a pur¬ 
ple, that % neither these nor the golden streaks on the water 
could safely be attempted to be represented‘by the artist; at 
the margin of the water on the right, meadows of the rich¬ 
est pasture, the velvet turf contrasted with the silvery olive, 
and covered with cattle and tents without number. All this 
will at once tell the traveler that he sees before him the city 
extolled by the ancients under the title of the lovely , the crown 
of Ionia , the ornament of Asia. It will remind the Christian 
that he is arrived at Smyrna, the church favored so much 
beyond all the other churches of the Apocalypse; the only 
city retaining any comparison with its original magnificence. 
Ejphesus , the mart of all nations, the boast of Ionia, has long 
dwelt in darkness, as though she had not been; the streams 
of her commerce, like her own numerous ports, are all dried 
up. Where once proconsuls sat at Laodicea ) now sit the vul¬ 
ture and the jackal. At Sardis , where once a Solon reminded 
Croesus of his mortality,the solitary cucuvaia awakens the same 
reflection ; and if Philadelphia , Thyatira , and Pergamos con¬ 
tinue to exist, it is in a state of being infinitely degraded from 
that which they once enjoyed. Smyrna alone flourishes 
still; her temple and public edifices are no more; but her 
opulence, extent, and population are certainly increased.” 

u Few of the Ionian cities have furnished more relics of 
antiquity, or of greater merit, than Smyrna; but the con¬ 
venience of removing them (and the many visits paid to them 
for this purpose) have caused even the very rums to vanish; 


SMYRNA. 


499 


and it is now extremely difficult to determine the sites of any 
of the ancient buildings, with the exception of the Stadium, 
Theater, and a temple within the Acropolis. 

“The castle encloses seven acres, but in its present state 
affords not many remnants of very ancient date; the view 
from it is magnificent, and going down from its western gate 
toward the sea, at some distance, is the ground-plat of the 

Stadium, stripped of its marble seats.Descending from 

the northern gateway, you come to the vestiges of a theater 
in the side of the hill, said to be the largest in Asia—the 
most interesting to the Christian spectator as the scene of the 
martyrdom of the venerable Polycarp. At a short distance 
only is the supposed site of his tomb, and it is not improba¬ 
ble that it is the true one; for there is no just reason for 
believing that in any period since that event Smyrna was for 
any long time without some Christians competent and dis¬ 
posed to perpetuate the tradition. 

“ The city wall, which, descending from the castle, included 
the Stadium on the one hand and the Theater on the other, 
has been long since demolished, and even its ruins re¬ 
moved.” 

“ Of modern Smyrna we may observe that its population 
is very great, and its ancient learning and buildings seem to 
be reviving. It is said that the condition of the Christians 
in Smyrna is better than that in any of the other of the 
seven churches who retain a remnant of Christianity. And 
thus, though she has so often been destroyed, either partially or 
wholly—by fire, earthquake and plague—yet has Smyrna sur¬ 
vived all these visitations, and seems yet, in a degree at least, 
to partake of the blessing which, when no fault was found in 
her, and no judgment denounced against her, was given.”— 
Aeundell’s Researches in Asia Minor. 

Mr. Wilson writes, in his account of Smyrna • 

“ There is a most commodious church, with the British 
arms placed over the seat of the consul. Not having heard 




500 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


a sermon since I left Marseilles, I felt a delight which can be 
only appreciated by those who have been long removed from 
our land of Gospel light, and can truly say, in the words of 
the Royal writer, ‘ I was glad to go into the house of the 
Lord.”’ 

Mr. Wilson also narrates an interesting fact with which he 
became acquainted, viz.: the martyrdom of a Greek Chris¬ 
tian, whose patient sufferings for the faith called to mind the 
brighter days of Smyrna, when her martyrs, with Poly carp 
at their head, endured with such constancy, and “ were tor¬ 
tured, not accepting deliverance.” 

“ A Turk had prevailed by artifice upon a Greek Christian, 
twenty-four years of age, to enter his service, abandon his 
faith, and embrace the tenets of Mohammed, when he assumed 
the costume of a Mussulman. On the expiration of his en¬ 
gagement, the Greek departed for Mount Athos in Macedonia, 
and was absent about twelve months, when he returned to 
Smyrna; but his conscience having reproached him for the 
act of apostasy of which he had been guilty, he proceeded to 
the Turkish judge, threw down his turban, declared he had 
been deceived, and would still live and die a Christian. Every 
effort was made to prevail on him to continue in the princi¬ 
ples of Mohammedanism, by offering him great rewards if he 

did, and threatening him with the severest penalties if he 
did not. The Greek, having rejected every bribe, was thrust 
into a dungeon and tortured, which he bore most heroically, 
and was then led forth in public to be beheaded, with his 
hands tied behind his back. The place of execution was a 
platform opposite to one of the principal mosques, where a 
blacksmith, armed with a cimeter, stood ready to perform 
the dreadful operation. To the astonishment of the surround¬ 
ing multitude, this did not shake his fortitude ; and although 
he was told that it would be quite sufficient if he merely de¬ 
clared he was not a Christian, rather than do so he chose to 

die. Still entertaining a hope that the young man might re- 


SMYRNA. 


501 


tract, especially when the instrument of death was exhibited, 
these offers were again and again pressed upon him, but with¬ 
out effect. The executioner was then ordered to peel off with 
his sword part of the skin of his neck. The fortitude and 
strong faith of this Christian, who expressed the most perfect 
willingness to suffer,, enabled him to reach that highest eleva¬ 
tion ©f apostolic triumph, evinced by rejoicing in tribulation ; 
when, looking up steadfastly to heaven, like the martyr 
Stephen, he loudly exclaimed, ‘I was born with Jesus, and 
shall die with Jesus ’; and bringing to recollection the excla¬ 
mation of Polycarp, in this very place, he added, ‘I have 
served Christ, and how can I revile my King who has kept 
me! ’ On pronouncing these words, his head was struck off 
at once.The head was then placed under the left arm (af¬ 

ter a Mohammedan is beheaded, the head is placed under the 
right arm, and in this manner he is interred), and, with the 
body, remained on the scaffold three days exposed to public 
view, after which the Greeks were permitted to bury it. This 
was the third instance of the kind which occurred within 

the last twenty years.When we read this history of 

Christian faith and constancy, so closely resembling and com¬ 
ing up to the measure of primitive grace and patience, and 
then reflect that these things happened in Smyrna in our own 
day, nearly 1800 years after the epistle of that church was 
written; when again we remember the words of that epistle 
—its commendation (free from all reproof), its encouragement 
to perseverance, and promise of reward, and then turn to the 
other churches, and see their desolation, and the darkness 
which covers them —we can hardly fail to be struck with the 
faithfulness of God’s word, and to feel that yet the blessing 
lingers over Smyrna, ‘ Fear none of those things which thou 
shalt suffer : be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee 
a crown of life.”—R ae Wilson’s Travels. 




502 SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 

The same blessing is for us if the same faithfulness is ours. 
The same exhortation is addressed to every Christian, coupled 
with the same promise. And how glorious that promise! Who 
can worthily speak of it—who can describe the lustre of that 
crown that shall be given to every believer ? Age after age 
shall pass away, and still every jewel in that crown shall be as 
bright as when the Eedeemer’s hand first placed the radiant 
circle on your brow. For it is a crown of life —a crown of 
immortality and glory, “incorruptible, undefiled, and that 
fadeth not away.” And He who now, in your earthly strug¬ 
gles, beckons to you from the skies, and holds the reward of 
victory to cheer you in your conflicts with sin and Satan, is 
“ the first and the last,” the infinite, the eternal One, pledg¬ 
ing all the power of Deity to carry you through this mortal 
strife, and make you more than conqueror for His name’s sake. 
I am He “ which was dead and is alive,” He tells you. I have 
been subject to the same sorrows and persecutions as you. I 
have groaned beneath the tortures of the body, and have bled 
from very agony of soul. I have felt the damps of death upon 
my brow, have hung a lifeless corpse upon the cross, have been 
wrapped in the gloomy cerements of the grave, and can sym¬ 
pathize with my people in every infirmity and pang which 
assails the dying. But now I am “ alive,” to assure them of 
my protection, my ability to help and deliver from death and 
the tomb. Take courage, then, in all your trials, and continue 
“ steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the 
Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labor is not in vain in 
the Lord.” 


PERGAMOS. 


The Stronghold of Lysimachus—An Illustrious Seat of Learning— 
Parchment—Antipas—The Church of St. John’s Day—The New Tes- 
tament in Pergamos—The Storks among the Ruins—The Acropolis 
—Temple of Minerva—Palace of Attalus—Shrine of Esculapius— 
Number of Population—Picturesque Scene—Greek Church. 

Pergamos, now called Bergama , was anciently one of tlie 
most distinguished of the Seven Churches. It is situated on 
the river Caicus (or Bakir), and is supposed to have been of 
Greek origin; but nothing is certainly known of its history 
until Lysimachus, one of the soldier kings who succeeded to 
the spoils of the mighty empire of Alexander the Great, made 
it his stronghold, and deposited within its walls his treasures. 
These treasures he left in the charge of an eunuch, named Phi- 
letserus, who revolted against his master, and founded a king¬ 
dom, of which he was the first ruler. He reigned from 280 
years before Christ to 263, and was succeeded by Eumenes, 
who died in 241. Then came Attalus, a wise and successful 
sovereign, who first assumed the title of King of Pergamos, 
and flourished from B. c. 241 to B. c. 197 ; Eumenes II., B. c. 
197-159, who was an ally of the Romans, and received from 
them a large increase of territory, in acknowledgment of his 
services; Attalus II., B. c. 159-138 ; and Attalus III., B. c. 
138-133, who by his will bequeathed his kingdom to the great 
Republic of Rome, whereupon it was incorporated in the pro¬ 
vince of Asia. 

Pergamos, under these peaceful and able monarchs, became 
an illustrious seat of learning, and rejoiced in the possession 
of a splendid library. It glittered with baths and palaces, 
aqueducts, amphitheaters, fountains, statues, with all the evi¬ 
dences of artistic luxury and boundless wealth. Strangers 



506 


SEVEN CHURCHES OP ASIA. 


were attracted thither from all parts of the world by the fame 
of its riches, its magnificence, and its learning; and in the 
time of our Saviour it stood conspicuous as the brightest and 
most prosperous of all the Asiatic cities. Here was invented 
parchment; or, if not invented—which some authorities deny 
—at all events so considerably improved, and so much more 
skillfully adapted to writing purposes, that it received the 
name of Pergamena—Charta pergamena —whence comes our 
English word. Its use spread all over Europe; a fortunate 
circumstance for literature, owing to its durability. 

The doctrines of Christ were early preached in this famous 
city, and early found believers; but, as might have been ex¬ 
pected from its devotion to luxurious arts and magical studies, 
numerous false teachers soon arose, who corrupted the pure 
faith, and led astray the souls of men. Some disciples there 
were who remained steadfast and unwavering, but the num¬ 
ber of the ungodly was so great that the Saviour, in His 
message to the Seven Churches, could not but express His 
Divine indignation when addressing the Church of Per- 
gamos: 

“ I know thy works, and where thou dwellest, even where 
Satan’s seat is: and thou holdest fast my name, and hast not 
denied my faith, even in those days wherein Antipas was my 
faithful martyr, who was slain among you, where Satan 
dwelleth. But I have a few things against thee, because thou 
hast there them that hold the doctrine of Balaam, who taught 
Balak to cast a stumbling-block before the children of Israel, 
to eat things sacrificed unto idols, and to commit fornica¬ 
tion.Repent; or else I will come unto thee quickly, and 

will fight against thee with the sword of my mouth.” (Rev. 
ii. 13, 14.) 

Of the martyr Antipas, said to have been the first bishop 
of the city, nothing certain is known. But he was not the 
last who suffered for Christ’s name at the hands of the Per- 
gamenes. 



VIEW OF PERGAMOS 


PERGAMOS, 


507 














































503 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


The few miserable inhabitants of the modern town pretend 
to point out the very church where the disciples assembled 
to whom John’s message was addressed, and also the tomb of 
Antipas. It is needless to say that there is no evidence of 
their authenticity. With the sword of His mouth has the 
Divine Redeemer fought against Pergamos, and its present 
desolation is an impressive commentary on its past vices and 
ancient magnificence. 

When Mr. Macfarlane visited it, a little church situated un¬ 
der the Acropolis—low, dark, narrow and ruinous—was the 
only one that echoed the name of Christ. It is probable that 
the primitive Church to which John addressed himself was 
not materially —that is, not in brick or stone, size or architec¬ 
ture—much superior to this lowly fane; but how immeas¬ 
urably different the light that shone within it—the Spirit 
that animated it! 

It was here that our traveler saw some copies of the Hew 
Testament in Romaic, edited by Englishmen , and printed at 
London. The sight naturally suggested a train of curious re¬ 
flections. When Christ’s Gospel was first proclaimed in these 
regions, what was Britain ? 

A scarcely known island, whose savage inhabitants were 
bravely fighting for freedom against the legions of Rome. 
But through what language has Britain, as well as all Europe, 
since derived its knowledge of the acts and teaching of the 
Son of God and His disciples? Through the Greek, which 
has not only enjoyed the privilege of instructing us in all 
that is sublime and beautiful in poetry, philosophy and elo¬ 
quence, but the honor of inculcating on the minds of men 
the precepts of Divine Wisdom, and of making known to the 
world the way of salvation and the condition of eternal life. 
And now it is from the remote island which the Greeks 
never knew, from the once barbarous England swept by the 
eagles of imperial Rome, that the church at Pergamos obtains 
the Bible printed in its own language—obtains that Book 


PERGAMOS. 


509 


of Life which was first given to man in these very regions ! 
The human inhabitants of Pergamos are dull, depressed, 
and ignorant; and the traveler turns from them with infinite 
pleasure to the animal population—to the storks and turtle¬ 
doves that throng the lofty, castle-like walls of the old 
Greek Church of Agois Theologos, or sail with expanded 
wings across the blue twilight sky; or to the cuckoos that 
fill the air with melancholy music. 

We borrow from Mr. Mcfarlane’s pages a graceful picture. 

Prom an open gallery in the house where he lodged at Per¬ 
gamos he was accustomed to look out upon the massive walls 
of the ancient church already mentioned, which were inces¬ 
santly frequented by troops of stately storks. “ They were 
always divided into pairs; sometimes only the long elastic 
neck of one of them would be seen towering from the nest, 
while the consort would stand by on one of his long slim 
legs, and watch with the assiduity of affection; sometimes 
one of them, caressing his mate ere he left her, would spread 
his broad snow-white wings, fly away to the town or the 
fields, and thence return with a large twig or other materials 
for the nest, or a supply of provisions for his occupied part¬ 
ner. Other couples would be grouped on the edges of the stu¬ 
pendous ruin, entwining their pliant necks and mixing their 
long bills; or in pretty coquetry, one would bend her neck 
over her back and bury her bill in the luxuriant plumage, 
and her consort would make his long bill clack with a pecu¬ 
liar sharp, and monotonous sound, and then in gentle force 
raise the recreant head, and embrace it with quivering de¬ 
light. Mixed with these large white birds, or issuing from 
their nests in the crannies of the walls below the nests of the 
storks, or flitting athwart the twilight sky, were thousands 
of little blue turtle-doves, forming an amorous choir which 
never ceased by day or by night. ” 

The Acropolis, or citadel (which was always the most an¬ 
cient part, and the stronghold of Greek cities), stands on a hill 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


510 * 

200 feet above the plain, now crowned with its ruins, amongst 
which those of a castle or fortress resembling those at Smyr¬ 
na and Ephesus, covering the whole summit, and including 
about eight acres, stand prominent. It was built in the more, 
prosperous times of Pergamos, though much of its present 
form is of a later date. The town afterward became more 
extended, and the modern one lies in part on the slope of the 
hill, but principally in the plain. 

Among the antiquities of Pergamos may be mentioned the 
remains of the Temple of Minerva, which rose on a high area, 
and was unrivaled in sublimity of situation, being visible 
from the vast plain and the Mediterranean Sea. Its columns 
now lie in a lofty heap. 

With a descent almost perpendicular on the north and 
west sides, is a very narrow valley, with a rivulet over which 
at one extremity, the great aqueduct of one row of lofty arches 
is constructed ; and at the other, a pile of massive buildings, 
which, filling the whole breadth of the valley, was the front 
and grand entrance into an extensive amphitheater . . . the 
most complete edifice of the kind in Asia Minor. Here, at 
times, by retaining the waters of the rivulet, a naUmaehia, 
or place for the exhibition of a mock sea-fight was formed; 
while at others, when the arena was dry, and the stream con¬ 
fined within its narrow bounds, it was used for chariot, gym¬ 
nastic and other exercises. Of the site of the royal palace of 
King Attalus, celebrated for its beautiful prospect (and there¬ 
fore probably occupying an elevated and commanding po¬ 
sition), nothing can be positively asserted. 

Once there was at Pergamos the celebrated Temple of Es- 
culapius, which was also an asylum ; and the concourse of 
individuals to which was without number or cessation. They 
passed the night there to invoke the false deity, who com¬ 
municated remedies either in dreams or by the mouth of his 
priests, who distributed drugs and performed surgical opera¬ 
tions. The Roman emperor Caracalla repaired to Pergamos 


NECROPOLIS 


PEIIQAMOS 


511 




















































































































































































512 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


for the recovery of his health, but Esculapius was unmoved 
by his prayers. Pergamos is emphatically described in the 
Revelation as the place “ where Satan’s seat is ”; and it is 
singular that on the Pergamean coins a serpent is engraved 
as ah emblem of their tutelary divinity; thus affording an 
analogy to the old Serpent , the dragon , as Satan is termed in 
Scripture. 

The subsequent history of the Church of Pergamos is lit¬ 
tle known. It shared the fate of its sister churches, and had 
its own share of persecution, until the time of Constantine 
For several centuries its bishops continued to attend the 
councils of the Church, but at length all traces of it disappeared. 

The threat against it has been almost literally fulfilled, but 
still its candlestick has not been removed out of its place, like 
that of Ephesus. Pergamos has, in a measure at least, been 
saved from destruction; and though in the midst of a blind¬ 
ness and poverty sadly contrasted with her former privileged 
condition under the first rays of Gospel light, and amid the 
treasures of unperverted truth, a portion of her inhabitants 
still preserve the Christian name and worship. 

Mr. Arundell thinks the Christian population of this city 
has much increased of late—that of the whole city he con¬ 
siders underrated at fifteen thousand; of which fifteen hundred 
are Greeks, two hundred are Armenians—who have a church 
—and about a hundred, Jews, with a synagogue: all the rest 
are Mohammedans. 

“The grand plain of Pergamos,” writes Mr. Arundell, “was 
in full view before us. ... In the front distance rose 
the majestic Acropolis. We arrived at a mill soon after, and 
remained there a short time. The miller, a Greek, came up 
to me, as, seated under a tree, with Pergamos before me, I 
was reading the message to the angel of that church, in the 
Greek Testament. The poor man earnestly begged me to 
give him some medical assistance : he looked wretchedly ill, 
and was evidently in a deep decline. I gave him what ad- 


PERGAMOS. 


513 


vice I could, accompanied by a medicine of great efficacy— 
the book which I was reading. The poor fellow received it 
most gratefully, lamenting that he could not read himself, 
but he had children, he said, who should read it to him. . . . 
Toward evening a busy scene presented itself in the plain on 
both sides of the road: numerous plows worked by buffa¬ 
loes ; maize and dari collecting in heaps; and in other places 
men, women, and children employed among green crops. . . . 
At a quarter past six we arrived at Pergamos: the setting 
sun threw its strong shadows on the stupendous rock of the 
Acropolis and the mountain behind it. The country imme¬ 
diately before entering the town was of an unpromising 
aspect, rocky and bare of trees, and in the winter must be 
very desolate, from the greater part of the low ground being 
covered with water. As we passed, however, under the 
arches of a bridge, and thence through a burial-ground, the 
view improved much, from the abundance of cypresses, pop¬ 
lars, and other trees. On entering the town, now nearly 
dark, I was struck by some enormous high masses of walls 
on the left, strongly contrasting with the diminutive houses 
beneath and around them. I heard subsequently, that they 
are the remains of the Church of St. John. 

I accompanied a Greek priest to his church, the only church 
at present in Pergamos ; it lies on the ascent of the castle hill, 
and is a poor shed covered with earth. Though the sun was 
blazing in full splendor on all the scenes without, this poor 
church was so dark within, that even with the aid of a glim¬ 
mering lamp, I could not distinctly see the figures on the 
screen. On one side of it another priest kept a little school 
of thirty scholars. I gave him a Testament. The contrast 
between the magnificent remains of the Church of St. John, 
which lay beneath, and this its poor representative, is as 
striking as between the poverty of the present state of 
religion among the modern Greeks, and the rich abundance 
of Gospel light which once shone over Pergamos.” 

33 










ANCIENT SITE OF LAODICEA. 

























































THYATIRA. 


Situated in a Broad Plain — Population—Luxuriant Vegetation— 

Locusts—“ That Woman Jezebel ”—Lydia—The Trade in Purple— 

Ruins—Commerce—Contrast of Piety and Wickedness in the Church. 

Finely situated in a broad, open plain, a little to the south 
of the river Hyllus, stands Thyatira, now known as Ak-hissa-r, 
or the White Castle. It lies between Pergamos and Sardis, 
and to the south-east of Smyrna. It was one of the Seven 
Churches included in the ministrations of St. John, who in 
his Saviour’s name thus addressed its angel: 

“I know thy works, and charity, and service, and faith, and 
thy patience, and thy works; and the last to be more than 
the first.” (Rev. ii. 19.) 

After complaining, however, of the sinful lenity with 
which the Christian brotherhood seem to have regarded cer¬ 
tain glaring vices, and threatening sinners with severe chas¬ 
tisement, the message continues: 

u But unto you I say, and unto the rest in Thyatira (as 
many as have not this doctrine, and which have not known 
the depths of Satan, as they speak), I will put upon you none 
other burden ” (Rev. ii. 24.) 

The present population of the not unpicturesque town 
which occupies the site of the ancient Thyatira, cannot ex¬ 
ceed 1,000 families, of whom about 400 are Greek and Arme¬ 
nian Christians. 

Its appearance, as you approach it, is that of a very long 
line of cypresses, poplars, and other trees, amidst which the 
minarets of several mosques shine brightly, and the roofs of 
a few houses are conspicuous. On the left is a view of dis- 
(517) 



518 


SEVEN CHURCHES OP ASIA. 



ft 


VIEW OF THYATIRA 























































































































































































THYATIRA. 


519 


tant hills, whose verdant crest ite continued over the town; 
and on the right, adjoining the town, rises a low eminence, 
crowned by two ruined windmills. 

The surrounding country is clothed with luxuriant vege¬ 
tation. The white rose is extremely abundant, and scents 
the air with an exquisite fragrance. But in the locust the 
husbandman has a most formidable enemy, which in one 
fatal night often renders useless the toil of weeks. A modern 
traveler saw an army of these injurious insects literally take 
possession of the town. He says he was perfectly astonished 
at their multitudes; they were, in truth, “asa strong people 
set in battle array ; they run like mighty men; they climb 
the wall like men of war.” (Joel ii. 1-11.) 

In the epistle addressed by the Evangelist to the church 
at this place, we read of “ that woman Jezebel, which calleth 
herself a prophetess.” This may not have been, as some 
writers suppose, a sect of evil-workers personified, but, says 
Trench, a wicked woman in the church of Thyatira, inherit¬ 
ing from the wicked wife of Ahab (1 Kings, xvi. 81, 82) this 
name of infamy in the Church of God, and following hard in 
her footsteps. 

Thyatira was a Macedonian colony, and its prosperity was 
formerly due to its manufacture of a celebrated purple (or 
scarlet) dye, which was highly esteemed by the Romans. In 
the days of St. Paul there lived in the city a woman named 
Lydia, who traded in this dye, and was probably a person of 
considerable wealth and influence. She had already 
become a convert to Judaism, but on hearing Paul preach, 
eagerly embraced the Christian faith, and was baptized at 
Philippi. (Acts xvi. 9-15.) It is not unreasonable to conclude 
that by her example and exhortations she induced others to 
accept the living truths of Christ’s Gospel, and was thus the 
founder of the church at Thyatira ? 

Even at the present time Thyatira is famous for dyeing, 


520 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


and the cloths which are here colored scarlet are considered 
superior to any others furnished by Asia Minor. 

“ Yery few of the ancient buildings remain here; one we 
saw, which seems to have been a market-place, having six 
pillars sunk very low in the ground. We could not find any 
ruins of churches; and, inquiring of the Greeks about it, they 
told us there were several great buildings of stone under 
ground (which we were very apt to believe, from what we 
had observed in other places), where, digging somewhat deep, 
they met with strong foundations, that without all question 
formerly supported great buildings. I find, by several in¬ 
scriptions, that the inhabitants of this city, as well as those 
of Ephesus, were, in the times of heathenism, great votaries 
and worshipers of the goddess Diana. The city has a very 
great supply of water, which streams in every street, flowing 
from a neighboring hill. ... it is populous, inhabited mostly 
by Turks . . . few Christians residing among them; those 
Armenians we found here being strangers who came hither 
to sell sashes, handkerchiefs, etc., which they bring out of 
Persia. They are maintained chiefly by the trade of cotton 
wool, which they send to Smyrna, for which commodity 
Thyatira is very considerable.” “ It is this trade,” says Rycaut, 
u the crystalline waters, cool and sweet to the taste and light 
on the stomach, the wholesome air, the rich and delicious 
country which cause this city so to flourish in our days, and to 
be more happy than her other desolate and comfortless sisters.” 

“ On the way, we observed many columns and antiquities 
notifying an ancient town. Mr. Arundell discovered an in¬ 
scription, containing the words, ‘ From Thyatira .’ Ak-Hissar, 
the modern Thyatira, is situated on a plain, and is embosomed 
in cypresses and poplars. The buildings are in general 
mean; but the khan in which we are at present residing is 
by far the best which I have yet seen. . . . The language 
addressed to Thyatira is rather different from that of the other 


THYATIRA. 


521 


epistles. The commendations are scarcely surpassed even in 
the epistle to Philadelphia, while the conduct of some of its 
members was impious and profligate. The Church thus ex¬ 
hibited a contrast of the most exalted piety with the very 
depths of Satan .” 

And what are the features for which the Saviour commends . 
the little flock of true believers existing in the bosom of this 
partially corrupt church? They are wholly practical. Not 
the depth of their Christian experience, not their attainments 
in spiritual knowledge, not the fervors and raptures of their 
piety, but their practical holiness and obedience, their 
“works,” their “love,” their “service,” their “trust,” their 
“patience,” are the point of character selected by Christ him¬ 
self. Faith no doubt is the root from which the other graces 
spring, but how evident it is, from the whole tenor of the 
commendation, not only in this but in every one of the seven 
epistles, that the faith which is not continually bringing forth 
fruits of patience and holiness, and habitual and progressive 
sanctification, is worth nothing ! We say progressive, for you 
observe how prominent this characteristic of living piety js ; 
made in the passage: “I know thy .works, and the last to be. 
more than the first.” The Bible is eminently practical, and it 
is a sad deficiency where Christian teaching is lacking in this 
element. We cannot be forever establishing principles. If 
these are vital, they should lead to the growth of the believer. 
Examine yourselves whether ye be in the faith, and determine 
this, not by frames and feelings and professions, but by your 
fruits, by your “service” to God, as the Saviour here denomi¬ 
nates it. Remember, of faith, hope and charity, the greatest 
is and ever must be, charity, or love. “ Show me thy faith 
without thy works,” says James, “ and I will show thee my 
faith and my works.” And wisely did he say so, for the eye 
of man can see, and the eye of God will see, no other But that 
which works by love and purifies the heart. What are you 
doing for God ? What in the way of charity ? What in the 


522 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


way of self-denial ? What in the way of patience and purity ? 
What in the way of close and intimate communion with God 
himself? How many there are who have attained correct 
notions in religion; but their religion is not practical. The 
world, Satan, self, see them to be just as earthly, sensual, 
devilish as any of the other votaries of this trinity of evil. 

Examine yourself by the single test which our Lord pro¬ 
poses in this passage. Can you truly say that your “last 
works are more than the first”? Are you, heart and soul, 
among the little flock on whom the Saviour pronounces His 
benediction ? Is Christianity a growing principle within you ? 
Is your hatred of sin greater, your avoidance of it more 
determined and decisive, now than at any former period? 
Are your obedience, your prayerfulness, your self-denial, on 
the increase? These are the unerring features of God’s 
children. They form more than resemblance—relationship. 
Progress is that family likeness without which no child of 
God was ever found—without which not an individual of 
Christ’s redeemed family ever passed from the school of trial 
on earth to the happy and rejoicing society of the Father’s 
house, the Christian’s home. 


SARDIS. 


On the River Pactolus—Capital of Croesus—Solon—“ Call no man happy 
till he is Dead ”—Croesus Conquered and Released by Cyrus—Sardis 
Captured by Alexander and by the Romans—Epistle to Sardis—A 
Miserable Village—Xerxes—Huge Tumuli—Tomb of Alyattes—Tem¬ 
ple of Cybele—The Acropolis—Description by Arundell —Ascent of 
a Precipice—Churches—Palace of Croesus—Fording the Hermus— 
Burial-Places of Myriads—Refusing the New Testament—Solitude. 

Poetically famous in ancient song and legend was the 
river Pactolus, on whose green banks was formerly situated 
Sardis, the chief city of the kingdom of Lydia. Five cen¬ 
turies and a half before the birth of Christ it was the capital 
of Croesus, a mighty and magnificent monarch, whose name 
has grown into a proverb for immense wealth. At the age 
of thirty-five he ascended the Lydian throne, and during a 
reign of fourteen years, made himself master of all the Greek 
States of Asia Minor, exercising a despotic power which ex¬ 
tended from the shores of the blue Mediterranean to the 
borders of Persia. At the height of his prosperity he was 
visited by Solon, the great Athenian philosopher, to whom he 
boasted of his splendor, his successes, and his inexhaustible 
treasures. It is said that he then inquired of the wise Greek 
who was the happiest man that he had ever seen. Solon, 
instead of flattering the king by naming him, as he had ex¬ 
pected, answered that no one could be esteemed happy until 
he had finished life in a happy way. 

Not long afterward, Croesus waged war against Cyrus, the 
Persian conqueror. His armies were defeated; he was com¬ 
pelled to retreat within the walls of Sardis; the city was 
assaulted, captured, and he himself taken prisoner. The 
victor ordered him to be burned alive. As the humbled and 
(525) 



526 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


unfortunate sovereign stood in chains at the foot of the blazing 
pyre, and meditated upon his reverse of fortune, he suddenly 
remembered the warning of the Greek philosopher, and 
breaking a long silence with a heavy sigh, thrice repeated his 
name: “Solon! Solon! Solon!” 

Cyrus immediately inquired for whom he was calling, and 
upon hearing all the circumstances narrated, was so impressed 
with the fickleness of the world’s fortune, and the precarious 



RUINS 05* SARDIS. 

nature of human prosperity, that he ordered the fire to be 
quenched, and Croesus to be released, and made him thence¬ 
forward his counselor and friend. 

There may be some doubt as to the truth of this old tradi¬ 
tion, but none as to the value of the moral it is intended to 
enforce. 

Sardis was a sepond time captured, by Alexander the Great. 
Like the rest of Asia Minor, it afterward fell into the hands 
















SARDIS. 


527 


of the Romans. In the reign of the Emperor Tiberius it 
was destroyed by an earthquake, but was rebuilt through the 
emperor’s generous assistance. A Christian church was 
founded here soon after the death of Christ. From the mes¬ 
sage addressed to it by St. John, it is plain, however, that its 
members were slothful in well-doing, and deficient in earnest, 
living faith. 

“ I know thy works,” says the Saviour, “ that thou hast a 
name that thou livest, and —art dead . . . . Remember how 
thou hast received and heard, and hold fast, and repent. If 
therefore thou shalt not watch, I will come on thee as a thief, 
and thou shalt not know what hour I will come upon thee.’ 
(Rev. iii. 1-3.) 

But even in Sardis there were some who held fast the 
truth, and in their daily lives showed themselves full of the 
grace of God. “ Thou hast a few names,” wrote St. John, 
“ which have not defiled their garments”; and they, said the 
Apostle, should walk with their Lord in white, for they were 
worthy. Oh, if so much can be said of me, and of you, dear 
reader, how blessed will be our lot! 

The modern name of Sardis is Sart , a poor miserable vil¬ 
lage, inhabited chiefly by shepherds, and situated somewhat 
to the north of the remains of the ancient city. 

“ I sat beneath the sky of Asia,” says a modern traveler, 

“ to gaze upon the ruins of Sardis, from the banks of the 
golden-sanded Pactolus. Beside me were the cliffs of that 
Acropolis (or citadel), which, centuries before, the hardy 
Median scaled while leading on the conquering Persians, 
whose tents had covered the very spot on which I was re¬ 
clining. Before me were the vestiges of what had been the 
palace of the gorgeous Croesus; within its walls were once 
congregated the wisest of mankind, Thales, Cleobulus, and 
Solon. Far in the distance rose the gigantic tumuli (or the 
tombs of earth) of the Lydian monarchs; and around them 
spread those very plains once trodden by the countless ho§ts 


528 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


of Xerxes, the Persian king, when hurrying on to find defeat 
and a sepulcher at Marathon. But all, all had passed away. 
There were before me the fanes of a dead religion, the tombs 
of forgotten monarchs, and the palm tree that waved in the 
banquet-hall of kings.” 

The tombs, or tumuli, referred to in the preceding quota¬ 
tions, are memorials of extraordinary interest. They are 
situated close to the Lake of Gygaea, five miles from Sardis, 
and are of various sizes. Pour or five are distinguished by 
their superior magnitude, so that from a distance they rise 
against the deep blue sky like hills. It is supposed that 
they were built up of soil from the bed of the lake ; and the 
labor of many men must have been employed in this task for 

month after month. All 



of them are now covered 
with fresh green turf, and 
many retain their conical 
form without any sinking 
in at the top. 


One of the barrows, 
the most conspicuous and 
the largest, has been de¬ 
scribed as the greatest 
work in Lydia—inferior 
only to the huge piles 


CORAL OB' MEDITERRANEAN. 


raised by the Egyptians and Assyrians. 

It is the tomb of King Alyattes, the father of Croesus, and 
consists of a huge mound of earth raised on a solid basement 
of large stones, by the toil of three classes of the people. 
Alyattes died B. c. 562, so that upward of two thousand four 
hundred years have elapsed since his bones were deposited 
in this gigantic sepulcher, whose construction doubtless cost 
many tears, and entailed great sufferings upon a considerable 
portion of Lydia. For labor then was forced and badly paid, 
and the cultivation of the soil must necessarily have been 



SARDIS. 


520 


neglected while the human ants were building their great 
ant-hill. 

The tomb of the Lydian monarch measures three-quarters 
of a mile in circuit; its height is two hundred feet, its breadth 
thirteen hundred! It has been conjectured that a valuable 
treasure is concealed within it. 

The ruins of Sardis are remarkable for their grandeur. 
The village and its vicinity boast of two of the most inter¬ 
esting remains of antiquity in Asia—the colossal tumuli which 
we have just described, and the vast Ionic Temple of Cybele 
near the bank of the Pactolus. There are also a theater, and 
vestiges of a large church, which were examined by Leake, 
the celebrated traveler, and found to consist almost entirely 
of fragments of older edifices. 

Of this temple to Cybele, second only in splendor to that 
of the Ephesian Diana, five columns were standing when Dr. 
Chandler visited the spot. The shafts were fluted, and the 
capitals designed and carved with exquisite skill. In 1812, 
Mr. Cockerell, the architect, found only three erect (now re¬ 
duced to two), and these buried to nearly half their height in 
the soil accumulated in the valley since their erection; chiefly, 
it is probable, by the destruction of the hill of the Acropolis, 
which is continually crumbling, and presents a most rugged 
and fantastic outline. Other portions of the temple were also 
visible—enough to show that it was one of the greatest 
triumphs of Greek architecture. 

To obtain an accurate conception of the beauty of the sur¬ 
rounding country, it is necessary to ascend the Acropolis, and 
stand upon its bold and rugged brow. At its foot spreads a 
broad and fertile plain, traversed by the river classically 
famous as the Hermus ; at the extremity of the plain, a direc¬ 
tion nearly due north, sleeps the tranquil Gygsean lake, edged 
round with the colossal sepulchers of the Lydian kings; and, 
beyond, the summer sky seems to rest on the strong shoulders 
of a lofty mountain ridge. 

34 


530 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


All is lovely, but all invested with a certain air of sub¬ 
limity. And the traveler, looking forth upon the varied 
features of the scene, cannot but be moved with a feeling of 
sadness; for the strange history of the past rushes upon his 
mind, and the annals of the different races who have occupied 
this fertile region, and yet have left scarcely a single memorial 
of their supremacy, scarcely a single monument of their 
genius, stir his memory with melancholy thoughts. Here 
Croesus counted his treasures; here Alexander the Great led 
the victorious charge ; and what remains ? A few shattered 
pillars and broken walls, and a long line of silent tombs! 

Mr. Arundell writes: 

“ Sardis, the capital of Lydia, identified with the names of 
Croesus, and Cyrus, and Alexander—great even in the days 
of Augustus;—ruined by earthquakes, and restored to its 
importance by the munificence of Tiberius;—Christian Sardis, 
offering her hymns of thanksgiving for deliverance from 
Pagan persecution in the magnificent temples of the Virgin 
and Apostle;—Sardis, again fallen under the yoke of a false 
religion, but still retaining her numerous population and 
powerful defense only five hundred years ago what is Sardis 
now ? ‘ How doth the city sit solitary, that was full of people!’ 
(Lam. i. 1.) A few mud huts, inhabited by Turkish herds¬ 
men, and a mill or two, contain all the present population of 
Sardis. The only members of the church of Sardis are two 
Greek servants to the Turkish miller. 

“ The Acropolis is of extremely difficult and dangerous ascent, 
and the few walls at its summit, on which are an inscriptidh 
or two, and some ancient fragments, would not compensate 
for the risk and fatigue; the view is, however, magnificent. 

“ In my first visit to Sardis, last December, I was accom¬ 
panied by some naval friends; one of whom, with the fear¬ 
lessness so characteristic of a British sailor, mounted to the 
top of a high but narrow fragment, considerably out of 
perpendicular, and inclining over that tremendous precipice 


SARDIS. 


531 


which Croesus neglected to guard, as believing it to be wholly 
inaccessible; the fragment was undermined by many a per¬ 
foration beneath, and at the top the whole crumbled under 
the touch like dust. . . . 

“ Of the Temple of Cybele, only two pillars remain at pre¬ 
sent ; the Turks have recently destroyed the rest, for the sake 
of the lead connecting the blocks. It is impossible to behold 
these magnificent columns without being inexpressibly affected. 
Colonel Leake believes these to be antecedent to the capture 
of Sardis by Cyrus, and yet the columns are as perfect as if 
erected yesterday! The objects of greatest interest to the 
Christian traveler are the ruins of two churches; one at the 
back of the mill, said to be the Church of the Virgin, and 
another in front of it, called the Church of St. John. Of the 
former there are considerable remains, and it is almost wholly 
constructed with magnificent fragments of earlier edifices. . . . 
of the other, there are several stone piers having fragments 
of brick arches above them, and standing east and west. 

“ A theater, and stadium connected with it, are distinguish¬ 
able under the northern brow of the Acropolis, but the re¬ 
mains are few. . . . 

“ Of the supposed Gerusia, called also the House of Croesus, 
which lies in the plain. ... I measured the first room. . . . 
it was a hundred and fifty-six feet long, by forty-two and a 
half wide; and the walls, celebrated for the durability of the 
bricks, were ten feet and a half thick. Might this not have 
been the Gymnasium ? 

* “ There are some other remains, built of very massy stones, 
now much corroded by age, near a small stream, one of the 
branches of the river Pactolus which runs down into the 
Hermus. These remains appear to have been oblong apart¬ 
ments. . . . the bed of the adjoining stream and the stones 
are not golden at present, but of a dark color, as if containing 
iron. Mineralogists are, I believe, agreed that most of the 
auriferous sands in all parts of the world are of a black or 


532 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


reddish color, and are consequently ferruginous. It was 
observed by Eeaumur that the sand which accompanies the 
gold of most rivers is composed of particles of iron, and small 
grains of rubies and hyacinth. 

“We left Sardis, and crossed the plain in an oblique direc¬ 
tion, north-west, toward the Hermus, to ford the ferry. We 
arrived at the river, having crossed an extensive burial- 

ground on our way, full of fragments.The ferry-boat 

was destroyed ; no alternative remained but to ford the river, 
or return to Smyrna without seeing Thyatira. It was very 
broad, and looked very formidable. While we were hesitat¬ 
ing, a fine Turkish lad of eighteen came up to us, and, unso¬ 
licited, offered to be our guide. He accompanied us to the 
brink of the river a short way below, and pointed out the 
fording-place. The surigee plunged in, but before he had 
reached a quarter of the way across, he 
became terrified, and returned. The 
young Turk instantly mounted one of 
the horses, and rode in before us. It was 
providentially not so deep or rapid as to 
throw the horses off their legs, though 
very broad, and we reached the oppo¬ 
site bank in safety, though sufficiently 
wet. We offered some money to our 
guide, who had earned it so well, but 
with a generosity which formed a most 
striking contrast to the conduct of the 
Christian at Sardis, he positively re¬ 
fused to take a para ! After crossing 
the Hermus, our course was due north, 



QUOIT PITCHER. 


by a very gradual ascent to a village, close to which our fur¬ 
ther advance in that direction was arrested by a narrow but 
deep morass, and we were compelled to return some way to 
find a sort of bridge on the right. Crossing it, we had on our 
right a large oblong elevation, squared like an entrenchment, 




SARDIS. 


533 


behind which rose the top of the enormous tumulus of Aly- 
attes, the GygaBan lake lying beyond it, though not just then 
in view. Our road was now through an extensive and open 
though not level country, covered with innumerable tumuli; 
the larger number of stupendous size. It gave a powerful 
but affecting impression of the once mighty metropolis of the 
empire of Lydia; but even the population of that great city, 
and the countless hosts of the Lydians and Persians, and 
Greeks and Romans, which fought and fell in the plains be¬ 
fore it, were scarcely sufficient to account for the multitude 
of these astonishing monuments. Perhaps, like the mummy 
plains in Egypt, this might be a place of interment of peculiar 
sanctity, not for the metropolis only, but the whole province. 
That a temple of Diana once existed near the spot, reputed 
of great sanctity, gives plausibility to the conjecture. The 
remains of the temple no longer exist; and the princes of 
Lydia, her wise men, her captains, and her rulers and her 
mighty men, sleep a perpetual sleep.”— Arundell. 

Mr. Arundell subsequently mentions, that whilst at a place 
called Adala, near Sardis, he found in a small church, resorted 
to by the neighboring Greeks on Sundays, a single Greek at 
his devotions. “ I invited him to my room, and offered him 
a Testament; but he was quite indifferent to the offer, and in 
effect actually refused it, though he knew it to be the Gospel, 
and understood me when I read to him the fourth chapter of 
St. John. I then requested him to give it to the priest for 
the use of the church. He declined to do so, and I was 
obliged to leave it myself in the church. So near Sardis, only 
five hours distant, and little more from Philadelphia, in so 
little estimation is the word of God held! ” 

Visiting Sardis at a subsequent period, Mr. Arundell 
writes: “We dismounted at the door of the Cafe of Vour- 
kanle. . . . Every Turkish name has its signification; and 
Vourkanle means much blood-shedding ; a very likely and ap 
propriate name for a place in the plains of Sardis, where so 


53-4 


SEVEN CHURCHES OP ASIA. 


much, blood has been shed in every period of history. Three 
large tumuli, which lay on the right of the road soon after, 
were incontestable evidences that much blood had been shed, 
and the thousands that fell now mingle their dust in peace. 

“ The Acropolis of Sardis was now rising before us. . . . 

and the soft sandstone rock distorted and rent. . . . perhaps 
by earthquakes. 

“ With our eyes fixed on this crumbling monument of the 
grandeur and nothingness of man, and looking in vam for the 
city, whose multitudes lie under the countless sepulchral hil¬ 
locks on the other side of the Hermus, we arrived at what 
was once the metropolis of Lydia. 

“If I should be asked what impresses the mind most 
strongly on beholding Sardis, I should say, its indescribable 
solitude, like the darkness in Egypt, darkness that could be 
felt. So the deep solitude of the spot, once the 1 lady of king¬ 
doms,’ produces a corresponding feeling of desolate abandon¬ 
ment in the mind, which can never be forgotten. 

“We walked along the banks of the famed river Pactolus, 
and thence to the two remaining pillars of the Temple of 
Cybele, one of the oldest monuments at present existing in 
the world, and erected only three hundred years after the 
Temple of Solomon. It is remarkable that the Turks call a 
branch of the Pactolus by a name signifying the ‘ river of 
riches,’ preserving the tradition of the golden -streamed 
Pactolus. 

“ Connect this feeling with the message of the Apocalypse 
to the Church of Sardis, ‘ thou hast a name that thou livest, 
and art dead; I will come on thee as a thief, and thou shalt 
not know what hour I will come upon thee’—and then look 
round and ask, Where are the churches, where are the 
Christians of Sardis ? The tumuli beyond the Hermus reply, 
l All dead /’ suffering the infliction of the threatened judgment 
of God for the abuse of their privileges.”— Arunpell’s Re 
searches in Asia Minor. 


PHILADELPHIA. 


Named from its Founder—Epistle—Pillar—Population—Episcopal Pal¬ 
ace—Gibbon—Impressions of Travelers—Minarets—Many Christians 
Here—Spiritual Darkness—The Turtle Dove—Visit to the Bishop— 
“ City of God ” or “ Beautiful City”—Antiquities—Unmeaning Wor¬ 
ship—Number of Churches. 

Mount Tmolus, with its lofty form, overlooks the city of 
Philadelphia, so called from its founder, Attalus II., who was 
surnamed Philadelphus, in honor of his brotherly affection. 
It is also washed by the little river Cogamus, a tributary of 
the Hermus. Its annals are very eventful. Several times it 
suffered severely from earthquakes, but was always rebuilt 
by the industry of its inhabitants, who have ever been famous 
throughout Asia Minor for the purity of their morals. In 
common with several other Asiatic cities, it embraced the 
doctrines of Christianity, and with a fervor which earned for 
it the praise of its Divine Lord. He spoke to the head of its 
Christian church in assuring and hopeful terms: 

“I know thy works: behold, I have set before thee an 
open door, and no man can shut it: for thou hast a little 
strength, and hast kept my word, and hast not denied my 
name. . . . Because thou hast kept the word of my patience, 
I also will keep thee from the hour of temptation, which 
shall come upon all the world, to try them that dwell upon 

the earth.Him that overcometh will I make a pillar 

in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out; and 
I will write upon him the name of my God, and the name of 
the city of my God, which is New Jerusalem, which cometh 
down out of heaven from my God.” (Rev. iii. 8-12.) 

It is a curious illustration of this verse that among the 
ruins of the ancient city rises a tall solitary pillar; and in 
(537) 



533 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


like manner, among the ruined towns of Asia Minor stands 
Philadelphia—erect and unshaken. It still contains a popu 
lation of about 15,000, one-twelfth of whom call themselves 
Christians; so that a Christian church has been preserved 
here throughout the vicissitudes of eighteen centuries—the 
“ door” has been “ kept open,” and no man dare shut it! 

The remains of the churches and temples of the ancient 
Philadelphia are interesting, and its inhabitants profess to 
point out th b building wherein those disciples assembled who 
received the apostolic message of St. John. 

This decayed town, we may add, is the seat of a Greek 
bishopric. When it was visited by the eminent traveler, Dr. 



PHILADELPHIA. 


Chandler, the bishop was absent, and he and his party were 
received at the “ episcopal palace”—a mean little cottage of 
clay, very indifferently built—by the jprotojpapas , or chief 
priest. He proved to be ignorant of the Greek tongue—the 
very language in which St. John wrote and ministered—and 
could only discourse in Turkish. He had no idea that Phila¬ 
delphia existed before Christianity, and asserted that it had 
become a city in consequence of its numerous religious foun 






PHILADELPHIA. 


539 


dations. The number of churches he reckoned at twenty- 
four, mostly in ruins, and mere masses of wall, decorated with 
badly painted saints. The Episcopal church is a spacious pile, 
and profusely ornamented with gilding, carving, and holy 
portraits; the result, however, is neither artistic nor 
attractive. 

The historian Gibbon says : “In the loss of Ephesus the 
Christians deplored the fall of the first angel, the extinction 
of the first candlestick of the Revelation : the desolation is 
complete; and the Temple of Diana or the Church of Mary 
will equally elude the search of the curious traveler. The 
circus and three stately theaters of Laodicea are now peopled 
with wolves and foxes; Sardis is reduced to a miserable vil¬ 
lage ; the God of Mohammed is invoked in the mosques of 
Thyatira and Pergamos; and the populousness of Smyrna is 
supported by the foreign trade of the Franks and Armenians. 
Philadelphia alone has been saved.” 

We add the impressions of one or two travelers: 

“As we drew near Philadelphia, I read with much interest 
the epistle to that church. The town is situated on a rising 
ground, beneath the snowy Mount Tmolus. The houses are 
embosomed in trees, which have just assumed their fresh 
green foliage, and give a beautiful effect to the scene. I 
counted six minarets. We entered through a ruined wall; 
massy, but by no means of great antiquity. The streets are 
excessively ill-paved and dirty. The tear of Christian pity 
must fall over modern Philadelphia. Were Christ Himself 
to visit it, would He not weep over it, as onceover Jerusalem ? 
Alas! the generation of those who kept the word of our 
Lord’s patience is gone by; and here, as in too many other 
parts of the Christian vineyard, it is difficult to discover 
better fruits than those which are afforded by briars and 
brambles ! It is, indeed, an interesting circumstance to find 
Christianity more flourishing here than in many other parts 
of the Turkish empire. There is still a numerous Christian 


540 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


population, occupying eight hundred houses. Divine service 
is performed every Sunday in five churches; and there are 
twenty of a smaller description, in which, once a year, the 
liturgy is read. But though the candlestick remains, its 
light is obscured: the lamp still exists, but where is its oil ? 
Where is now the word of our Lord’s patience ?—it is con¬ 
veyed in sounds unintelligible to those who hear. When the 
very epistle to their own church is read, they understand it 
not! The word of legendary superstition and of multifarious 
will-worship is now more familiar to their ears. And where 
is the bright exhibition of Christian virtues ? Unhappily, 
the character of Christians in these countries will scarcely 
bear comparison with that of Mohammedans themselves! 

“We have just ascended the ancient Acropolis, a hill above 
the city, which commands a most extensive prospect. Below 
is the town, surrounded by its wall and embosomed in trees. 

“We see this interesting place to peculiar advantage. For 
several days we have been contending with rain, cold and 
ad verse weather ; but to-day, on arriving at Philadelphia, lo! 
the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the flowers ap¬ 
pear on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come, 
and the voice of the turtle is heard in the land.’ (Song of 
Sol. ii. 12.) The voice of the turtle charmed me greatly, 
during our stay here. This favorite bird is so tame that it 
flies about the streets, and comes up close to our door in the 
khan. The remains of antiquity at Philadelphia are not nu¬ 
merous. I have noticed a few beautiful sarcophagi, now 
devoted to the purpose of troughs. 

“ Our visit to Philadelphia was rendered the more interesting, 
by the circumstance of our being the bishop’s visitors. He 
pressed us so strongly to make his house our home, that we 
thought it right to comply with his wishes. Many of his re¬ 
marks afforded us satisfaction. . . . The Christian population 
he considered to be on the increase at Philadelphia. ... In 
the evening we attended the Metropolitan church; but to 



PHILADELPHIA. 


541 


give a true account of the sad degradation of Christian 
worship exhibited on this occasion, would be equally difficult 
and painful. We were highly pleased with the engaging 
manner of Panaretnos. His house, also, which is termed, as 
usual by the Greeks, the Metropolis, exhibited a decorum 
suited to a Christian bishop. . . . From the verandah, we 
had a view over the whole town by day; and at night we 
observed the illuminated minarets spreading their light over 
the city, as is customary during the (Mohammedan) fast of 
Ramazan. . . . The circumstance that Philadelphia is now 
called Allah-Shehr, ‘ the City of God,’ when viewed in con¬ 
nection with the promises made to that church, and especially 
with that of writing the name of the city of God upon its 
faithful members, is, to say the least, a singular coincidence.” 
—Hartley’s Researches. 

“We arrived at Allah-Shehr, the ancient Philadelphia. . . 
entering the town through chasms in the old wall, but which, 
being built of small stones, 
did not appear to be particu¬ 
larly ancient; the passage 
through the streets was filthy 
in the extreme, though the 
view of the place as we ap¬ 
proached it was extremely 
beautiful, and well entitled 
to the appellation of the ‘ fair 
city.’ .... We walked 
through the town, and up to 
the hill on which formerly 
stood the Acropolis; the 
houses were very mean, and 
we saw nothing on the hill 
but some walls of comparatively modern date. On an ad¬ 
joining hill, separated from the first by a deep fosse or a 
narrow ravine, were similar fragments of walls; but we 



POMEGRANATE. 



542 SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 

observed a few rows of large square stones just appearing 
above the surface of the ground. The view from these ele¬ 
vated situations was magnificent; highly cultivated gardens 
and vineyards lay at the back and the sides of the town, and 
before it one of the most extensive and richest plains in Asia. 
The Turkish name, 1 Allah-Shehr,’ 1 ‘ the city of God,’ reminded 
me of the Psalmist, 1 Beautiful for situation is Mount Zion,’ 
etc. We returned through a different part of the town, and, 
though objects of much curiosity, we were treated with 
civility, confirming Chandler’s observation, that the Phila¬ 
delphians are a ‘ civil people.’ It was extremely pleasing to 
see a number of turtle-doves on the roofs of the houses: they 
were well associated with the name of Philadelphia. The 
storks retain possession still of the walls of the city, as well as 
of the roofs of many of the houses. We called upon the bishop 
at three o’clock, who received us with much kind attention. 
.... At five o’clock, we accompanied him to his church; it 
was Palm Sunday, and the service extremely long. I could 
not help shedding tears, at contrasting this unmeaning mum¬ 
mery with the pure worship of primitive times, which 
probably had been offered on the very site of the present 
church. A single pillar, evidently belonging to a much 
earlier structure, reminded me of the reward of victory pro¬ 
mised to the faithful member of the church of Philadelphia. 

* Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of 
my God, and he shall go no more out; and I will write upon 
him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my 
God.’ 

“ The bishop insisted on our remaining in his house for the 
night. ... We learned from him that there were in Phila¬ 
delphia about three hundred Greek houses, and nearly three 
thousand Turkish ; that there were twenty-five churches, but 
that Divine service was chiefly confined to five only, in which it 
was regularly performed every week, but in the larger num- 

IOthers call it Ellah-Shehr, “Beautiful City.” 



PHILADELPHIA. 


543 


ber only once a year. He pointed out to me a part of a high 
stone wall having the remains of a brick arch on the top, 
which he said was part of the church of the Apocalypse, and 
dedicated to St. John. It is probable that these remains are 
really those of the first Christian church in Philadelphia. We 
saw at Ephesus, and subsequently at Sardis, precisely the 
same kind of building; stone walls with brick arches, and 
which tradition said positively were remains of churches. 
This solitary fragment, in deepest shadow, was strongly con¬ 
trasted with the light and lofty minarets of three adjoining 
mosques, blazing with innumerable lamps, as usual after 
sunset during the Ramazan. . . . 

“ The following testimony, from the author of the ‘ Decline 
and Fall of the Roman Empire,’ to the truth of the prophecy, 

‘ I will keep thee from the hour of temptation’ (Rev. iii. 10), 
is as valuable as remarkable. £ At a distance from the sea, 
forgotten by the emperor, encompassed on all sides by the 
Turks, her valiant citizens defended their religion and free¬ 
dom above fourscore years, and at length capitulated with 
the proudest of the Ottomans, in 1390. Among the Greek 
colonies and churches of Asia, Philadelphia is still erect —a 
column in a scene of ruins' ” —Arundell. 

We are told that it was not uncommon among the heathen 
nations of antiquity to erect monumental pillars within the 
temples of their gods, and to inscribe on these columns the 
most important circumstances in the life of the deceased—for 
instance, the name of the particular deity under whose 
auspices he had placed himself, the name of the city of which 
he was enrolled a citizen, and the name of the general under 
whose command he had fought and Ued and conquered. 
There is probably an allusion to this striking custom in the 
gracious promise with which our Lord concludes the epistle to 
the church of Philadelphia. He assures the Christian con¬ 
queror that on the day when his earthly warfare is finished 
he shall be removed into the heavenly temple, and shall 


544 


SEVEN CHTJKCHES OF ASIA. 


become a perpetual trophy, a glorious monument, of the 
victory of his redeeming Leader. He shall bear the name 
of his God, under whose auspices he has contended, even the 
Lord Jehovah; the name of the city among whose holy and 
happy inmates he shall be forever enrolled, even that “ city 
which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God.” 
Above all, there shall be written upon him the name, “ the 
new name,” of Him under whom he has fought the good fight 
and kept the faith and received the crown, “even my new 
name,” says the Lord Jesus Christ—Redeemer, Saviour, 
Mediator, Intercessor; for these were all new names, obtained 
on Calvary by Him who had been from all eternity “ King of 
kings and Lord of lords.” 

When heaven and earth shall pass away, the living pillars 
in the temple of their God shall stand unchanged and un¬ 
changeable, everlasting monuments of the love of the Creator, 
Redeemer and Sanctifier, and of the happiness of His re¬ 
deemed people, “ for they shall go no more out forever.” 


LAODICEA. 


Medical School— Philosophy—Epistle—Great Wealth—Council—Deso¬ 
lation—Volcanic Action—Earthquakes—Odeum—Theaters—Circus— 
Village of Eski-Hissar—Aqueduct. 

More than forty miles to the east of Ephesus was situated 
Laodicea, now known as Eski-hissar , or the Old Castle. It 
lies one mile to the south of the river Lycus, and was built 
by Laodice, Queen of Antiochus Theos, on the site of an older 
city named Diospolis. At an earlier period it became the 
seat of a Christian church. Its inhabitants were distinguished 
by their successful cultivation of the arts and sciences, and 
especially by the famous medical school which they sup¬ 
ported. It was owing, perhaps, to their cold philosophical 
culture that those among them who had embraced Christianity 
called forth the rebuke of the Saviour by their want of zeal 
and enthusiasm: 

“ I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot. 
I would thou wert cold or hot So then because thou 
art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spue 
thee out of my mouth. Because thou sayest, I am rich, 
and increased with goods, and have need of nothing; 
and knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and 
poor, and blind, and naked: I counsel thee to buy of me gold 
tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich; and white rai¬ 
ment, that thou mayest be clothed, and that the shame of thy 
nakedness do not appear; and anoint thine eyes with eye- 
salve, that thou mayest see.” (Rev. iii. 15-18.) 

During the reign of Tiberius the city was destroyed by an 
earthquake; but its inhabitants, who were not less famous 
for their wealth than for their learning, speedily rebuilt it. 
(547) 



548 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 



In 863 it was still of so much importance that one of those 
gatherings of bishops and priests, known as Councils, was 
held here, and determined the arrangement of the canonical 
books of the Old and New Testaments. 

In 1255, Laodicea was ravaged by the Turks, and again in 
1402, when it was literally razed to the ground. It is now a 
pile of mouldering ruins. “ It is even more solitary,” says a 
traveler, “than Ephesus —sitting in widowed loneliness—its 


LAODICEA. 

walls grass-grown—its temples desolate—its very name per¬ 
ished I The threatening is accomplished ; it now stands re¬ 
jected of God and deserted of man—its glory a ruin—its name 
a reproach.” 

It should be noticed as a striking commentary on the words 
recorded by the Evangelist—“I know thy works, that thou 
art neither cold nor hot: I would thou wert cold or hot ”— 
that the whole neighborhood of Laodicea bears traces of vol¬ 
canic action. The hill of Laodicea consists of dry impalpable 


LAODICEA. 


549 


soil, very porous, and broken np with cavities resembling the 
bore of a pipe. As the traveler rides along, tbe ground 
echoes beneath his horse’s hoofs. The stones are mostly 
masses of pebbles, or of gravel consolidated, and as light as 
pumice-stone. The surrounding country contains many hot 
springs, bubbling up in the plain or in the mud of the river, 
and numerous pestilential grottoes, whose depths are filled 
with unwholesome vapors. And it has always been subject 
to earthquakes. In truth, it was of old believed that the 
country about the Meander was completely undermined by 
fire and and water. 

The principal ruins are those of an amphitheater, a magnifi¬ 
cent odeum (or musical theater), and other public buildings; 
but the whole surface within the line of the city-wall is strewn 
with pedestals and fragments. Pococke mentions, among the 
remains of a stately structure, two pillars, about a foot and a 
half in diameter, which appeared to be “Oriental jasper-agate.” 

An inscription found in the amphitheater records that the 
building, which occupied twelve years, was completed “dur¬ 
ing the consulate of Trajan,” the great Roman emperor, 
eighty-two years after the birth of Christ. It was, therefore, in 
all the freshness of its splendor at the time the Apostle John 
conveyed the warning of the Lord to the lukewarm Laodi- 
ceans. 

“ Laodicea,” says Dr. Smith, “ a city of Lydia, according to 
the geography of the ancients, is situated upon six or seven 
hills, taking up a vast compass of ground.- It is now utterly 
desolated, and without any inhabitant except wolves, and 
jackals, and foxes; but the ruins show sufficiently what it 
has been formerly, the three theaters and the circus adding 
much to the stateliness of it, and arguing its greatness. 
That whose entrance is to the north-east is very large, and 
might contain between twenty and thirty thousand men, 
having about fifty steps, which are about a yard broad, and a 
foot and a quarter in height one from another, the plain at 


550 


SEVEN CHURCHES OP ASIA. 


the bottom being about thirty yards over. The circus ha£ 
about two and twenty steps, which remain firm and entire 
and is above three hundred and forty paces in length from 
one end to the other ; the entrance to the east. At the op¬ 
posite extremity is a cave that has a very handsome arch, 
upon which is found an inscription, purporting that the 
building occupied twelve years in the construction and was 
dedicated to Yespasian. 

“What painful recollections are connected with this period! 
Twelve years were employed in building this place of savage 
exhibition, and in the first of these years the Temple of Jeru¬ 
salem, which had been forty-eight years in building, was razed 
to its foundations, and of the Holy City not one stone was left 
upon another which was not thrown down! This abomina¬ 
tion of desolation was accomplished by him to whom this 
amphitheater was dedicated, and may have been in honor of 
his triumph over the once favored people of God. Perhaps 
in this very amphitheater the followers of a crucified Re¬ 
deemer were a few years afterward exposed to the fury of wild 
beasts, by the order of Trajan, of whose character the pre¬ 
dominant lines were clemency and benevolence. 

“ ‘ The city Laodicea,’ says Chandler, ‘ was named from 
Laodice, the wife of its founder Antiochus. It was long an 
inconsiderable place, but increased toward the age of Augus¬ 
tus Caesar. Laodicea was often damaged by earthquakes, and 
restored by its own opulence, or by the munificence of the 
Roman emperors. These resources failed, and the city, it is 
probable, became early a scene of ruin.’ . . . 

“On leaving the ruins and arriving at the village of Eski- 
hissar, we found our party had prevailed with difficulty on 
the inhabitants to lodge us, and our apartment was a stable. 
The entire population of the village, all Turks, came to visit 
us, full of curiosity, but not uncivil; though exorbitant in 
their prices for everything. . . . 

“In the morning, while the horses were preparing, I 


LAODICEA. 


551 


walked up the side of a hill, which commands an extensive 
view. The village and its flat-roofed houses, and trees, lay 
on the right; behind them a ridge of hills, over which rose 
mountains capped with snow. In front, separated only by a 
narrow vale, in which is the amphitheater, on a long ridge, 
lay the ruins of Laodicea ; directly behind them is seen the 
city of Hierapolis, appearing like a large semi-circular exca¬ 
vation of white marble, on the side of Mount Messogis; be- 



PATMOS. 


tween which and the ruins of Laodicea, is seen part of the 
plain of Lycus. At the left, higher up the hill, is a long line 
of arches, in large masses much decayed, once an aqueduct; 
before which were Turcoman black tents, and thousands of 
goats and sheep of the same color.” —Arundell. 

“The city of Laodicea was seated on a hill of moderate 
height, but of considerable extent. Its ruins attest that it was 
large, populous, and splendid. There are still to be seen an 
amphitheater, a theater, an aqueduct, and many other build¬ 
ings. . . . But its present condition is in striking conformity 
with the rebuke and threatening of God. Not a single 
Christian resides at Laodicea. No Turk even has a fixed 
residence on this forsaken spot.”— Hartley. 








552 


SEVEN CHURCHES OF ASIA. 


“ Nothing can exceed the desolation and melancholy ap¬ 
pearance of the site of Laodicea ; no picturesque features in 
the nature of the ground on which it stands relieve the dull 
uniformity of its undulating and barren hills. ... Its sta¬ 
dium, gymnasium, and theaters (one of which is in a state of 
great preservation) are well deserving of notice. Other build¬ 
ings, also on the top of the hill, are full of interest; and on the 
east the line of the ancient wall may be distinctly traced; 
there is also a street within and without the town flanked by 
the ruins of a colonnade and numerous pedestals. North of 
the town, toward Lycus, are many sarcophagi with their 
covers lying near them, and all having been long since rifled.” 

Amongst other interesting objects, Mr. Hamilton men¬ 
tions the ruins of an aqueduct which appears to have been 
overthrown by an earthquake. 

“ The Stadium, which is in a good state of preservation, is 
near the southern extremity of the city. The seats, almost 
perfect, are arranged along two sides of a narrow valley, 
which appears to have been taken advantage of for this pur¬ 
pose, and to have been closed up at both ends. Toward the 
west are considerable remains of a subterranean passage, by 
which chariots and horses were admitted into the arena, with 
a long inscription over the entrance. . . . The whole area of 
the ancient city is covered with ruined buildings. . . . The 
ruins bear the stamp of Eoman extravagance and luxury, 
rather than of the massive solidity of the Greeks. Strabo at¬ 
tributes the celebrity of the place to the fertility of the soil 
and the wealth of some of its inhabitants.”—See Hamilton, 
Researches in Asia Minor . 


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